


Nothing on This Planet Compares to It (Don't You Agree?)

by haloud, MayGlenn



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Bottom Michael Guerin, Dom/sub, Edging, Established Polyamorous Relationship, Explicit Consent, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Kink Negotiation, Light BDSM, M/M, Michael Guerin Is A Brat, Nebulous Well-Adjusted Future, Not Canon Compliant, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Praise Kink, Rope Bondage, Spanking, Technically Malex and Miluca on a timeshare, V-poly, Vibrators, inappropriate use of alien powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:34:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23807713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haloud/pseuds/haloud, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayGlenn/pseuds/MayGlenn
Summary: They’d told him he could just ask, after the last time he did something stupid in order to get a spanking. So. Here he was.Alex had been watching Michael practically astral projecting out of his body from across the room. He wasn't sure if aliens could even do that, but they were sure about to find out. He had had exactly one beer over the past hour and a half, and checked his watch again as Maria came by.“Another five minutes and the ten bucks are yours,” he mused. “I really did not think Guerin would last this long.”Maria bit her lip, and Alex watched her watch him.“Double or nothing he still pulls some stunt,” Maria suggested. “He’s been eyeing my pool cues like a freaking cat. I’ll take the cost of replacements out of his hide.”“That’ll only encourage him. But sure, I’ll take that bet.”
Relationships: Maria DeLuca/Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 78
Kudos: 60





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> sooo things are tense right now, but we hope people are still willing to accept a large helping of basically straight-up pornography. so here's a little finding aid for people with specific tastes:
> 
> Chapter 1: Alex and Maria give Michael a spanking he asks for; Alex provides aftercare and takes Michael home  
> Chapter 2: the rest of Alex and Michael's night  
> Chapter 3: Maria and Michael have fun with bondage  
> Chapter 4: the sex part of Miluca bondage fun  
> Chapter 5: Maria leaves Alex a present ;)

Michael was _not_ pacing. If he were pacing, he’d be wearing holes in the floor, circling the room, getting in people’s way and making patrons nervous. No, he was having a very normal evening at the Wild Pony, and not glancing up at Maria behind the bar, or Alex sat in a stool nursing a beer, every fifteen seconds, hoping he’d be noticed.

And he definitely wasn’t thinking about pushing over a rack of pool cues to make _sure_ he was noticed. No. Not at all. That would be stupid, and counterproductive besides, because he didn’t want to make them _mad,_ just...wanted responsibility taken off his hands. This would be a hard enough thing to approach either of them about at home, but he couldn’t wait, so here he was.

It had been a stressful week, full of pissy clients and family obligations and busy evenings that left him unable to spend as much time as he liked with either of his lovers. By Friday night he was so high-strung he could practically feel himself vibrating.

They’d told him he could just ask, after the last time he did something stupid in order to get a spanking. So. Here he was.

Michael took his hand off the pool cues and, sliding around a group of guys giving him suspicious looks, started to make his way to the bar with his shoulders hunched and his hands shoved in his pockets.

Alex, meanwhile, had been watching Michael practically astral projecting out of his body from across the room. He wasn't sure if aliens could even do that, but they were sure about to find out. He had had exactly one beer over the past hour and a half, and checked his watch again as Maria came by. 

“Another five minutes and the ten bucks are yours,” he mused. “I really did not think Guerin would last this long.” 

Maria bit her lip playfully, and Alex watched her watch him. 

“Double or nothing he pulls some stunt,” Maria suggested. “He’s been eyeing my pool cues like a freaking _cat_. I’ll take the cost of replacements out of his hide.” 

“Oh, that’ll only encourage him. But sure, I’ll take that bet.” 

Any number of temptations jumped out at Michael as he made his way across the room. He beat a busboy to a table still scattered with glasses that could be spilled, and he had to walk over the patch of carpet kind of coming up at the corner. He’d gotten Maria to punish him before by picking at it, and preened under her supervision as he did repairs around the bar the next day to make up for it. It would be so easy to fall back into old habits…

But he ignored all the opportunities for chaos and finally made it to the bar, where he squeezed between Alex and the nearest empty barstool, propped his hip against the bar, and grinned, an easy enough expression to slap on his face no matter how jittery he got.

“Come here often?” he said, with a performative drag of his eyes up and down Alex’s body. He heard Maria snort behind him, and that only made him grin wider.

Alex laughed. “Can I... _help_ you with something?” he asked, with a little shake of his head, playing innocent. 

Michael rocked up onto the balls of his feet then settled back down. He only managed to keep his eyes on Alex’s face for a few seconds before he was twisting to look for Maria, who was chatting with another patron. Focusing back on Alex, he fell back into the stool and started bouncing his knee on the bottom rail. The part of him still trying to wriggle out of his own skin wanted to reach out and grab Alex’s beer so he could fiddle with the label and have something to do with his hands. 

But he was being ridiculous. Or at least, he _felt_ ridiculous, and that was before even really opening his mouth and saying anything that was definitely going to make him sound like an idiot.

“I…” he started, but his brain died on arrival, and he had to start again. “Uh. It’s been a hell of a week. For me.” He cringed at the inanity of the statement—it wasn’t like Alex and Maria wouldn’t know, he’d tried to keep up with texting them. “I mean, I, uh. I’m kind of stressed out, and I wanted to see if you guys could…help me, uh, unwind.”

He grimaced, hoping that would be good enough.

Alex raised one eyebrow. “Unwind, huh?” 

He had that slow way of talking and thinking about every word he said before he said it that he knew drove Michael crazy, because it drove Maria and Liz crazy. So he took a pull of his beer, finishing it mostly off, but Michael didn’t need to know that. He waved for Maria, who wrapped up her conversation and joined them at the bar. “This man needs a water. And says he needs to unwind.” 

Maria checked her watch. “Ooh, and you didn’t break anything, so I guess the bet’s off.” 

“Bet?” He bristled for just a second—and, well, it wasn’t _too_ late to break something, all he’d have to do is bat Alex’s beer bottle off the bar—but he took a deep breath instead. Rubbing his hands on his thighs, he bobbed his head in a nod. “Um. Yeah. Unwinding. I was just telling Alex…” he darted his eyes at Alex’s as if he’d be given permission or something, but he had to drop his eyes anyway to get the words out. “I was hoping you’d be able to. Help me, with that.”

“He was about to tell us how,” Alex prompted, glancing sidelong at Michael. Maria waited patiently, too. They knew this was the cruelest torture, forcing him to articulate what it was he wanted, without acting out or trying to force their hands. Also, _God_ , he looked so good when he was squirming. “Unwinding can mean a lot of things. You want to go bowling, Guerin?” 

Michael _whined_ at that, a thin sound barely audible over the noise of the bar; but when he rocked back on the stool, unable to keep himself still or stop shifting his weight all over the place, he remembered how _good_ it would feel, how good it would _hurt_ after a spanking, to have that constant heavy-hot reminder of their hands on his skin. 

“You _know_ what I meant. I want.” Fuck, why is it still so hard to _say?_ He looked at Maria again, and the twinkle in her eye said she was enjoying this way too much, and he cast his eyes all around the bar trying to buy himself time, trying to make sure no one will hear, like this wasn’t hard enough. But no one was close, and he was out of excuses.

“I want a spanking,” he finally blurted, and then leapt immediately to his feet, and had to grip the counter or else he might just flee to the parking lot and home and never come out again.

Maybe the looks on their faces was worth the embarrassment: people didn’t often look pleased with him, not quite _this_ pleased, anyway, like they were two cats who just caught a canary fat enough to split. 

“Who, uh—” Alex’s voice actually broke, and he had to cough. “Who would you like that from, Michael? Maria doesn’t—” 

“Oh, I have a break I can take whenever,” she said. “Dakota can keep an eye on things for me.” 

At least Michael could be confident they wanted this as much as he did. 

“Both of you. I want it from both of you.” That was the first thing Michael managed to say confidently all night that wasn’t a cheesy one-liner. But that confidence deserted him immediately, and he stumbled over the words when he said, “I-I don’t know how that would work, uh, exactly, but. Both.” 

He was squirming already at the thought of both their hands on him. They’d spanked him before, of course, but always one of them at a time, sometimes with the other watching, sometimes with Michael under orders to report how many strikes he got and how he behaved, and one memorable time Maria had gone at him with her hairbrush while Alex was on the other end of the phone line, and Michael had to be loud enough to make sure he could hear. It didn’t take much performance.

This time, though, Michael wanted _both_ of them. He looked up from below his lashes. Maybe _now_ they’d have a little mercy on him and at least give him an order to follow or something. 

“Both, huh?” Maria said, glancing at Alex but leaning over the bar to move into Michael’s space. “Maybe the adults need to talk about this, baby. You wanna go wait in the breakroom for us?” 

Alex grabbed his arm. “Lock the door behind you. Take off your clothes, and fold your clothes. Be ready for us.” 

“You know this means no sex, right? With both of us there?” Maria checked.

“I mean, probably,” Alex added, almost wryly. “You never know.” 

“In the heat of the moment,” Maria added. 

Michael nodded eagerly. He knew the rules, and it wasn’t about sex for him tonight; tonight, he needed something else from them. Sex could come later with whoever took him home for the night, or even tomorrow. 

“Thank you,” he said, voice all rushed out on a breath, and then he turned to scramble to the breakroom, and follow the instructions he’d been given.

Behind the closed and locked door, he whipped his shirt over his head and folded it, but he hesitated with his hands on his belt. The cool air nipped at his bare skin, and a shudder went through him at the thought of sitting here, waiting and naked and knowing he was being talked about but not when Alex and Maria would finally be _here_ to soothe his racing thoughts. The waiting was part of the game, Michael knew, but never a part he enjoyed. He unthreaded his belt slowly and placed it carefully on top of his shirt, but he hesitated again with his thumbs hooked into the waistband of his jeans.

Only the awful, twisting thought of disappointing Maria and Alex gave him the wherewithal to strip off the last of his clothes and fold them like instructed. Not having been given an actual position to wait in, he found himself pacing again, arms locked around himself, heart beating too hard in his chest to be healthy.

But then he took a deep breath, and remembered Alex telling him to be ready. He could do that. He _was_ ready, too ready, and that was the _problem._ Waiting was torture.

So he turned his back on the door, folded himself over the back of the couch, closed his eyes, and waited.

—

Alex kept it together until Michael disappeared, but then he let a breathless giggle escape. “Oh, shit, he needs it _bad_.” 

Maria laughed, a little breathless herself. “Poor baby. I knew he was having a rough one this week but I didn’t know it was _that_ bad.”

“I don’t want to keep him waiting long. He might mess up the couch.” Alex paid his tab and for Michael’s beers. “You’re closing tonight, right? It alright if I take him home after?” 

Maria put the money in the till, signaled to Dakota that she was taking her break, and after giving her hands a quick wash rounded the bar to join Alex. 

“Worrying about that couch is adorable. Trust me, Guerin knows his way around some upholstery cleaner.” She leered at Alex briefly to get her point across, then said, “Sure, he’s all yours. I’ve already got dibs on Sunday anyway.”

“That’s right,” Alex said, holding the door for her to go ahead of him, not only because she had a key for the breakroom. “I’ve got 22:12 right now, so we know to get you back in time.” 

Maria rolled her eyes as she pushed through the door. “Who’s going to fire me?” 

If they talked a big game out there, seeing Michael naked and spread out for them nearly made both of them lose their cools, at the same time, in front of their best friend. Alex definitely popped a chubby immediately, and Maria’s mouth went completely dry. Not very good dom material. 

Maria recovered first, trailing a hand up Michael’s spine. “So pretty.” 

Michael jumped at her touch, then clearly forced himself to relax with a long exhale. She loved this—the greed he brought out in her to give him what he needed—and she and Alex stared at him as he started to squirm in the quiet.

Alex checked that Michael’s clothes were folded, mostly as a distraction from the long golden lines of Michael’s body. “How bad do you need it, Guerin? How hard?” 

Michael let out a weak, watery laugh, all relief to have them here, to hear Alex’s voice, to feel Maria’s hand on him, gentle for now. “So bad,” he breathed. “Just as hard as you want. Please. I don’t know, I can’t—just— _please.”_

Maria’s hand reached the nape of his neck, and she trailed back down as she considered him, the goosebumps raised on his skin, the bright flush on the sliver of his face she could see. 

“Hard or mean?” Maria asked, raking her nails over his back. 

Alex picked up the belt Michael left rolled up neatly on top of his clothes. 

Hands braced on either side of his head, Michael arched into the sting of her nails, shaking his head, making his curls bounce wildly. “I don’t _know,_ ” he complained, voice edging dangerously into whiny territory. “Hard, just _hard,_ I-I think, unless mean is what you _want,_ I don’t _know…_ ” Suddenly anxious, he slid one of his own hands into his curls and tugged.

"Easy, Guerin, relax, we're gonna give it to you," Alex said, repositioning Michael's hands on the back of the couch and out of his pretty hair. He took Michael's belt and wrapped it around his wrists loosely, more as a reminder than actual restraint. Any time they did this, of course, it was mere suggestion, anyway, since Michael could pick any lock with his brain. " _We're_ the only ones who are allowed to hurt you."

“O-okay.” Michael took a deep breath, curled his fingers tight, digging into the worn old upholstery. He forced himself to settle and relax his body instead of holding stiff. They were going to give it to him—so all he had to do was hold still and wait for it. Even if he was still hyper-aware of his nakedness, the temperature of the room, and even if he did want to creep closer to Maria where she leaned against the couch beside him.

“Oh, so pretty. Can’t believe you want me to mess this up,” Maria hummed, cupping Michael’s chin and forcing him to look at her. “How about I hold him while you warm him up, Alex?” 

“Sounds good to me,” Alex said, wishing he’d kept the belt to use. He hated using his hand, because he _didn’t_ like pain, but ‘warming him up’ shouldn’t be too bad. “What’s your safeword, Guerin?” 

“Maximo.” Michael laughed a little at the grossed-out face Maria made, leaning into her touch when the hand gripping his chin began stroking his cheek with her thumb. Anticipation was zipping all over his nerve endings, and he shook his ass more teasingly this time, ready for Alex to begin.

Alex laughed too, face turned up in a slight grimace at the unsexiest word they all knew. (Like, there were white boys and then there were _white boys_ , plus finding out that was Michael’s brother’s nickname from a serial killer just…) 

“I know how bad you need this, but stop acting like a little slut,” Alex said cheerfully, bracing himself up against Michael’s side and smacking him sharply. One hand slid around his hips to hold him still, and he swung again, this time on the other cheek. 

“Don’t be mean, Al,” Maria reminded him. She was still holding Michael’s face up looking at her, but now she glanced at Alex, who had to look over his shoulder at her. 

“Remind me of that when I take my belt off,” Alex said. “He _likes_ being called a slut, don’t you, Guerin?”

“Fuck yeah,” Michael said, with another, shakier laugh. It was true, after all—how bad he wanted it, and the way his dick was half-hard from the mild humiliation and the early-fading sting of Alex’s first strikes. The promise of Alex’s belt had him feeling all weak, and he let out a little moan at the thought, knowing they still had to build up to it before then.

Alex chuckled warmly and smacked him a few more times, until that arm got tired and Michael’s ass was a nice glowing pink. He paused and rubbed over the flesh, mesmerized by the fine down of gold hair, by the coiling muscles, by that tight asshole he wanted to lick open and then just destroy—

His heart beating faster at the thought, Alex channeled his desires into his arm, smacking Michael until he got actual sound out of him. 

Ass starting to throb, Michael grunted and gasped at the impact of Alex’s palm, grateful that he wasn’t being expected to keep track of the strikes, because his brain was already starting to melt out of his ears. Every slap sent a wave of jumbled pain-pleasure up his spine, radiating all through his body, making him harden fully, making him struggle to keep his feet on the ground so he had leverage to push up into every spank. 

Every time Alex paused to rub him it got harder to hold back the noises he wanted to make, pitiful, pathetic ones, and Michael couldn’t even cover his own mouth with his hands belted together. Jerking at the next smack, the initial sting rocketing through him and then fading back into heat, he darted his tongue out to lick Maria’s fingers, hoping she’d take the hint.

“So sweet, so needy,” she cooed, wiping her fingers on his cheek, leaving his mouth free. “This is what you asked for, babe. Let it all out.”

So when Alex’s hand came down next, Michael _whimpered,_ a loud, hurt sound, and trembled in the wake of it.

“ _There_ it is,” Alex said, hitting Michael a few times hard, into the meat of his flesh, not a stinging slap but a bruising strike that almost knocked his legs out from under him. “Okay, switch?” 

Maria waited until Alex had sat down on the back of the couch on Michael’s other side before kissing his temple and getting up herself. Alex put his fingers through the curls at the back of Michael’s neck and pushed his face against the belt as he moaned. “If you need to bite down on something, use this.” 

Maria shook out her hands and lined up with one hand resting on the base of his spine. 

“Love your technique, DeLuca,” Alex teased. “Look like you’re getting ready to tee off.” 

“Fuck you, Alexander,” Maria said, and the first smack was rough. She hadn’t taken off her rings, and if she wasn’t careful, her long nails raked his already-tender ass on the backswing. They were definitely ramping up the pain in stages. 

“We want to hear you, Guerin,” Alex told him, when a soft grunt told him Michael was holding back. 

Maria’s rings and her nails were delicious background sensation, changing up the way the pain hit him, scrambling his brain even more. He wanted to bite down, he did, but he didn’t want to ruin his belt with tooth marks, and...even if it was hard to force himself not to hide, this _was_ what he asked for. 

Her nails caught him, and he cried out, forehead buried in his belted hands, shoulders shaking. He wasn’t pushing up into the blows anymore, just laying there limp and taking it, whatever they would give him. His mind was _finally_ going quiet, nothing else to focus on but the building pain, the two pairs of approving, hungry eyes on him.

Still trying to stay quiet, not wanting to be heard outside the door, Michael stopped swallowing all his noises, letting out hitching moans and cries every time he was hit, squirming in place when she paused to give her hand a rest.

“How’s he doing?” Maria asked, switching sides so now her right hand was on his back and her left could do the smacking. 

“Ah!” Michael yelped.

“He’s almost there,” Alex said, cupping Michael’s chin to check. “Not crying yet.” 

He was mostly joking, because he wasn’t sure what either of them would do if he actually started crying, even though it would probably be a thing to see. In the past, Alex had balked at the part of him that loved this so much, but enough time with Michael, seeing and _feeling_ through a handprint exactly what this did for him, had led him to embracing it. “Stop grinding your teeth. Bite the belt. I’ll get you a new one if you ruin it.” Then he squeezed Michael’s shoulders. “Or maybe I like the idea of you walking around in a belt with your own teeth-marks in it.” 

“Ooh, yeah,” Maria moaned, fingers twitching at that as she swung her hand back and struck him again. 

“Ah—ah—ah—” Michael sobbed. He still didn’t bite the leather, but he kissed it, lips wet with drool, face wet with sweat, and he may not have been crying _yet,_ but it was a near thing. And with pain lighting up all his senses, with his cock still hanging hard between his legs, he nuzzled at Alex’s hand, grounded in the warmth of his touch even as his backside was on fire.

“M’ria,” he gasped, “Alex, unh, _oh…”_

Maria’s hand cracked across his ass again, and again, and his thighs shook with every blow, but he kept his posture, he was _good,_ he wanted to be _good._

"That's it, that's it," Alex encouraged, rubbing the back of Michael's neck, dripping with sweat. "You're good, you take it so good, Michael." 

That, that made tears well up in Michael’s eyes, even if they didn’t fall yet, and he sobbed through the next few breaths, Alex’s praise falling over him like a soft blanket.

"He okay to keep going?" Maria asked, breathing a little heavily. 

"He might need some help to keep going," Alex said, watching Michael's shaking legs. He lifted Michael's head by the hair this time. "How you doing, handsome?"

Michael licked his lips a couple times, trying to get his tongue coordinated enough to answer. “‘M _good._ Oh, fuck,” he swore with a wobbly laugh as he shifted his weight back and forth and a new wave of aching went through him, and then he laughed again. There were so many endorphins coursing through his bloodstream, so much adrenaline. 

“Let’s get you more comfortable,” Maria said, kneading his ass in the interim. He was nice and red by now, with a couple darker marks from her rings, and he trembled so prettily under her hand. She looked up at Alex and said, “Let’s get him on the couch properly.”

"Great minds," Alex said, smirking. "Come on, Michael."

Hooking an arm around his waist, Alex pried Michael's fingers from the couch and walked him around it, still half hunched over. His _back_ was probably going to hurt by the end of this, unless aliens didn't get backaches. "Sit down first, Maria. You want his head?"

"Do I want him to give me head?" She repeated with a wink. "Yes, that would be lovely."

Alex made an unamused face. 

Michael stumbled with every step but managed to be sort-of graceful when he sank down on the couch, avoiding faceplanting in Maria’s lap. “Yes please,” he slurred, but Maria just laughed and guided his head up instead so she could kiss him, gentle but deep, stroking her tongue inside of his mouth, nipping at his lip. 

His thighs still shook in this position, ass still tilted up as he rested his weight on his elbows and twisted his still-bound wrists against the soft leather, but it wasn’t nearly so dire as it was before, when he was in danger of tipping over all across the floor. He groaned, so grateful, feeling so cared for even with his ass bruised and aching.

It was good, so good, but he still needed—something. He was buzzing all over, so close to the precipice, but he needed...

“‘M ready. More,” he said, and arched his back. 

"I don't know, Maria," Alex hummed, taking off his belt. "I don't think he's really ready, do you?"

"I can't tell," Maria agreed, finding a condom in her purse and opening it up. (She didn't want any jizz, even Michael's, getting on her breakroom couch.) "He's pretty incoherent already. Maybe he's good and done."

“Noooo,” Michael whined, forcing the arch of his back deeper, pushing his head into Maria’s stomach. “More, _please._ ”

She laughed and looped one arm around his shoulders, tugging one stray curl. “Don’t get whiny, sugar. We just want what’s best for you.”

"That's right," Alex said, and couldn't help tracing a finger up and down his crack from balls to back while Maria worked the condom on him. "Oh that's not fair, Maria. He's going to think you're gonna let him come."

Alex doubled up his belt, smacking it idly and without any force against Michael's calves. 

It didn’t hurt, not in comparison to the throbbing of his ass, but the _promise_ of it pushed all the air out of his lungs, and he moaned softly.

"Oh, no, this is only so he knows he's swallowing it if he does," Maria said, curling her wicked _hot_ fingers around his cock. 

Michael shuddered and licked his lips again, curled his toes against the pleasure of her hand on him. He would do it, he would, if she told him to. “I’ll be good,” he mumbled, and fixed his teeth in the meat of his arm, waiting for the belt to fall again.

“God, those _noises_ ,” Maria moaned. “You’re such a good, beautiful boy for us, aren’t you?”

“That’s right,” Alex agreed, and let the first slaps fall. They weren't hard, just over his thighs, trying to work out a good angle, but luckily it didn’t take much force for Michael to feel the sting. Maria’s hand worked in tandem, working Michael to full hardness, until she noticed where his mouth was. 

“Hey, what did we say about hurting yourself? No biting,” she said, pulling his head back by his hair to get him to let go. “You want me to give you something else to bite down on?” 

Alex really hit him then, a warning, while Maria’s other hand gripped the base of his cock as though in a vice. 

“Ow!” he yelped, a lick of fire streaking his thigh before fading to a buzzing heat.

That, that was what he wanted, what would bring him to the happy-hurt release he needed after a shitty week. He tried to squirm his poor dick out of Maria’s grip but quickly stopped moving when she gave him a threatening squeeze. The bite mark on his arm gave a sympathetic throb, and he sniffled. It was just instinct for him to find things to put in his mouth, but with a whimper he finally relented and bit down on the belt around his wrists.

The next strike bit into his other thigh, giving him a parallel stripe, and Michael let out another thin moan, teary eyes falling shut. With a shuddery breath, he made himself surrender to it, to the quiet, floaty feeling.

“That’s it, Al, a few more like that,” Maria whispered, just holding Michael still by his hair and his dick while Alex smacked him, just a few more times, maybe two, maybe ten, before stopping. 

In the absence of pain, Maria jerked his dick again, which had almost lost its erection from all the pain. “That’s it, you’re doing so good, baby,” she said, stroking him until he started to move his hips into it, and then stopping. 

Michael cried openly now, from all the competing sensations, soft, shuddery, grateful sobs from deep in his chest. He let the belt go in favor of rubbing his cheek against Maria’s knee, and he spread his knees wider, as wide as they could go without one of them slipping off the couch. Alex’s touch on his ass was cool and soothing with how blazing-hot the skin there was, and that made Michael cry too, feeling so loved, and in love, surrounded by his two doms.

“Th-th—” he tried, but it faded off when he had to take another deep breath, so he tried again, “ _thank_ you…”

“You’re welcome, baby, it’s alright. You’re beautiful. You don’t have to thank us, we love doing this to you,” Maria said, finding a tissue in her bag and wiping his face with it. “You think you can keep going?”

“Ready to take you all the way, Michael,” Alex echoed, though he shifted uncomfortably in his too-tight jeans. Literally just a recording of this was all he would need for masturbating to for the rest of his life, he was pretty certain. “Maria’s gonna let you come if you come while I’m spanking you.” 

“Oh, I _am_?” Maria replied smugly. “Maybe if he’s good.” 

Michael huffed out a breath and scrubbed at his face with his hands and bobbed his head in a nod. “I can take it,” he said in a raspy voice. Whatever Alex wanted to give him, he could take it. “Ready.”

Maria hummed and stroked his hair, patted his cheek just hard enough to be felt. “Let go, Michael. We’ve got you.”

They both felt it when Michael shuddered, letting them see him so vulnerable. Maria pulled him up and into a kiss, knocking his arms out from under him and just holding him as Alex started smacking him again. 

He really wasn’t hitting him that hard, moving the belt around and letting the layers of stinging pain already flaming up under his skin do the work for him. He had no interest in breaking the skin, but wouldn’t mind if he left a few bruises: they would help Michael’s attitude immensely until they faded. 

(And that, those bruises, really told Alex what this was all about, really taught him the difference between kink and abuse, because Alex had had those bruises himself as a kid, and nothing had ever given him a _worse_ attitude until his dad figured that out and stopped. But Michael liked the bruises almost as much as he seemed to like their initial impact. And, oh, it felt so _good_ to Alex to rewrite over everything this used to mean.) 

Alex hit lower down on Michael’s thighs and calves and even the soles of his feet while Maria worked him up to screaming, edging him once more and making him hold before finally, finally saying, “Come for me, baby.” 

Alex dropped the belt and reached between Michael’s legs to press on his perineum, to help him along. 

Utterly overwhelmed, Michael had nothing left to hold back, freely moaning and crying and squirming back into Alex’s hands and forward into Maria’s, everything underlayed with the fucking delicious, fucking perfect agony in his ass and thighs. Every sensation was all together, a shaken cocktail of emotions and hormones, and when he finally came he whited out completely, just for a devastating second, blind to everything but the pleasure. 

When he came to, his upper half was fully in Maria’s lap, and she was kissing his forehead, the tear tracks on his cheeks, and his mouth so gently he’d cry again if he wasn’t so blissed out. Alex stripped the condom off him and his weight left the couch briefly while he threw it away, and then he was back, just resting his hand against Michael’s poor ass, admiring his handiwork.

Michael opened his mouth to make a smart remark, but all that came out of his mouth was a garbled sound like a bad cell phone connection, or like he was trying to talk with marbles in his mouth. 

Maria actually laughed, tugging him up against her chest and kissing his face and neck. The bad connection was clearly between his brain and the rest of his body, as he went puppy-limp in her arms, long limbs spilling out of her hold. 

Chuckling, Alex scooted closer, lifting Michael’s lower half into his lap. He was trembling faintly, probably from overstimulation, but just in case it was cold, Alex also tugged the blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it around Michael, folding his legs up and tucking the edge of the blanket under his toes, holding Michael’s knees under his arms. Michael hissed when the blanket brushed over the tender skin of his ass, but Alex stroked his hip to soothe him and murmured, “You’re doing great, Michael. Just relax. We’ve got you.” 

Maria was almost doing this rocking motion with his top half, continuing to plant kisses into his hair. “I think we did it,” she whispered, eyes tracking to Alex, whose smile was as bright as the sun, his hand rubbing up and down the side of Michael’s leg. 

“I think so. I _hope_ so, shit. Michael, look at me,” he said, cupping Michael’s cheek to try to catch his eyes. 

Yep. Really dialated. He looked like baby Bambi like this, _Jesus_ , and Alex laughed again, softly. 

“Mmm,” Michael hummed, a dopey grin spreading across his face, and he just stared at Alex dreamily. Everything felt good, even the pain. He could take a nap right here, just like this, sprawled out naked on their laps on the Pony’s breakroom sofa, ass bruised and aching. Two pairs of hands on him were so soothing, everything he’d wanted, _needed,_ when he turned up at the Pony that evening vibrating out of his skin. Now he was sunk deep in himself, fitted back inside, sated and satisfied.

“What time is it?” Maria asked eventually, not removing her focus from the bundle in her arms. 

Alex winced when he looked at his watch. “Close to 11.” 

“Guess I better get back,” she sighed, kissing Michael’s mouth. “Stay down, okay, sweetheart?” she said, and heaved him over onto Alex’s lap instead, against his shoulder. 

Michael went over easily, and Alex took him as gently as he could, chuckling as he tried to fold all those wayward lanky limbs into one blanketed bundle without putting all his weight on his tender ass, trying to tip him to one side, even if he had to twist his spine weirdly. Michael tucked his face into the crook of Alex’s neck and snuggled in appreciatively.

“You can leave out the back door whenever he’s feeling up to it,” Maria said, still petting Michael’s hair, and then petting Alex’s hair for good measure. “And I’ll be right back.” 

Michael watched her go and when they were alone tried to tuck himself even closer to Alex to make up for it. He’d known, of course, that this would be the case if they did this here, and he was just so happy they gave it to him anyway. 

Alex kept up an even rhythm, stroking his hair and his back, the steady motion almost putting him to sleep. After a few sweet, drifting minutes, during which Maria came and left again with two bottles of water and some sort of cream that Michael didn’t even register, Michael finally managed to speak in a soft, wrecked voice.

“Needed that.”

“Clearly,” Alex said, and then huffed. “I think I did, too. Here, drink,” he said, uncapping a water bottle and holding it up for him. 

Michael drank until the bottle was empty, thirstier than he’d realized, and as soon as he was done he tucked his face back into Alex’s shoulder.

Almost shyly, he asked, “Why the…,” he gestured vaguely downward, like there weren’t a lot of things that had just gone on down there. “I thought....” 

He’d thought the ‘no sex’ rule was still in play and wasn’t sure why they’d changed their minds. Not that he was complaining. If anyone hadn’t wanted it to happen, they would have safeworded. 

Alex actually laughed that time. “If I said ‘that didn’t count,’ would you take it the wrong way? It’s different. _We_ stayed fully clothed. She’s still my best friend, I’m not ready to watch her fuck our boyfriend.”

Alex paused. “Sorry that seemed like us changing the rules halfway through. I guess that wasn’t cool.” 

Michael shook his head. “Oh no, it was cool. I was just curious.” He grinned, and laid a kiss on the top of Alex’s shoulder. He was starting to come back down to earth a little bit, enough to wince at the thought of sitting on the drive home, but his mood didn’t slip in the slightest. “What I’m hearing is more orgasms for me, that’s very cool.” 

“Yeah, I didn’t think you’d object, exactly,” Alex said with a smile, struck by the tenderness of Michael’s kiss, and how bright-eyed and focused and happy he was, like for a few minutes his miserable existence, past or present—maybe, hopefully, mostly past—couldn’t touch him. Alex would do anything to make Michael feel like that, even if only for an evening. He lifted Michael’s head to look at him, grinning. “Though you better prepare yourself to be jumped when I get you back to my place, you were so hot tonight.” 

If Michael could purr, he would, preening under the praise and already eager again. He’d be hard pressed to pick which one he liked better—the spanking or the way it felt to be fucked afterward, with every impact of Alex or Maria’s hips against his ass refreshing the burn. 

He stretched out his legs, gone a little stiff from all the earlier tension and then from being curled up in a ball under Alex’s arm. The motion pulled on his bruises, and Michael reached down to rub it, laughing a little. 

“Ready when you are,” he said, resting back in Alex’s arms.

“Yeah, good,” Alex chuckled. “Here, roll over, Maria gave me this cream and I wanna check you out, anyway. I don’t think I broke the skin but I want to be sure. Maybe I need a picture of this ass. Where’s my phone?” 

“Doesn’t feel like you broke it, nah.” Michael rolled over and helped to shimmy the blanket up so his ass was bared. He propped his chin on his hands and said, “Maybe you should hold off on the picture. If you’re gonna fuck me when we get home. Really give her something to look at.”

“I don’t want to send Maria a picture of my dick,” Alex said, laughing giddily. He rubbed some of the cream—it was just an antibiotic ointment, with a bit of a topical painkiller, liberally over Michael’s reddened ass. “Your ass in a picture, fine. Her strap-on, fine. My dick, not fine. What if I run for office someday? How’s that feel?” 

Michael let out a happy moan at the cool cream leaching some of the heat out of his skin and at the feeling of Alex’s hands on him. “Mm, doesn’t have to be a picture of your dick. Just the product of its hard work. And what you do to me…” His dick twitched just at the thought of how he’d look, how slutty, red and bruised ass tipped up, hole red too, open and slick with lube…

Alex smiled. “Oh, right. _After_ I wreck you, that’s fine. Half asleep with your ass up in the air. Yeah. She’d like that.” 

Alex wiped the cream off on his jeans, since they were kind of a lost cause, anyway. “You feel alright to get up? Want me to help you?” 

“Probably gonna need it.” 

And sure enough, he did—his knees wobbled when he tried to put weight on them, and he had to reach out for Alex’s steadying grip to stay on his feet. Putting his pants back on was another ordeal, making him whine at the roughness of the denim, leaving him wishing he’d been smart and packed a pair of sweats to put on after. Still, though, he was glowing when Alex put an arm over his shoulder and tugged him in close and steered him out through the Pony’s back door.

“We should splash some bourbon on you so you have an excuse,” Alex remarked, but he managed to get Michael to the passenger seat of his suburban. Then he smirked at him. “You could lie down in the back seat if you’ve had too much of a good thing.” 

Michael sat for just a couple seconds before he whined and took Alex up on the offer, spreading himself out on the backseat, and he dozed on the drive back to Alex’s place, lulled by the movement of the car and the endorphins leaving his system.


	2. Chapter 2

When they arrived, Michael woke up to Alex nudging him and bending over him, and the pain in his ass was the first thing he noticed. It made him grin with satisfaction. 

“You doing alright? Did you fall asleep?” Alex asked, a little amused. 

“Just a little.” 

Michael stretched, grunting when he had to sit up to get out. He loved this part too, not being able to sit or walk or even wear clothes without the reminder of what happened. He let Alex help him out of the car and inside, gripping the hem of Alex’s shirt the entire time, just for wanting to be close to him.

Michael was so sweet like this, so open and vulnerable, that Alex felt almost abashed about doing anything more to or with him. He just needed a shower, some hot chocolate, and bed. And if Alex was a little disappointed, well, he wouldn’t mind those things, either, and he couldn’t stop grinning at him. 

“How does a shower sound, cowboy?” 

“Sounds great, actually. I’m definitely still sticky.” And Alex’s shower was nice—it always got hot enough for the way Michael liked it on his extra-warm alien skin, and he’d use Alex’s soap to wash up and smell like him for hours. 

But when they got inside and it was time for Michael to go into the bathroom, he found himself not wanting to let go of Alex’s shirt and be separated from him. “We could go together,” he suggested, trying to keep the plaintive note out of his voice and not totally succeeding. “I could kneel for you.”

Alex was surprised by the request, but also pleased, in a way that made his heart ache. He didn’t often begrudge the leg he lost in exchange for his life, except when it kept him from doing things he wanted to do. In another life he might have offered to follow Michael into the shower, to make sure  _ he _ didn’t slip or get distracted or lost or just stand there until the water got cold, but he would never have asked Michael to take care of him in the shower. Not tonight, like this, anyway. 

But the thought of Michael on his knees, wet and pliant, relaxed, and eager to please, at his feet—foot—while he shaved and washed and maybe washed Michael’s hair and maybe, maybe, he thought, selfishly, could convince Guerin to give him a blowjob like this—

Okay, maybe he wasn’t strong enough to say no to this. 

“You couldn’t kneel the whole time,” he warned. “You’d have to sit on your ass at some point, probably.” 

“Oh, I know,” Michael purred, taking a step closer into Alex’s orbit, nuzzling his nose into his cheek and murmuring in his ear. “But I bet I could kneel for a nice long time. Long enough, even.”

Alex’s shower already had a nice gel foot pad to increase traction, and Michael had knelt on it before, so he knew he could go long enough to get his fill of Alex’s hands in his wet hair. And if he did end up having to sit, he’d deal with the pain, and probably even like it, re-tenderizing that nice, deep ache right before he crawled into bed on his stomach and sank into sleep.

“Well—well if you want,” Alex said, wondering if there was some alien thing going on here, like Michael had suddenly developed mind-influencing powers and didn’t even know he had them. Because really, this was what Alex wanted but was too afraid to ask for. 

Alex swallowed, and pulled Michael into a kiss, hand firm on the back of his neck. 

“I, I want to take care of you,” he blurted out when their lips parted, “but I might need some help from you, too.” 

Michael wet his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, searching for more of the taste of Alex there, wanting another kiss but forcing himself to answer with words anyway. 

“Just tell me what to do and I’m yours.” 

Always. That was what he wanted, always.

“You’re…” Alex began, shaking his head, and huffing out an almost-laugh. “Impossible? In every sense of the word. Come on.”

Alex led the way to the bathroom. His shower was a tub converted for accessibility, but in many ways that was even better, especially for right now. All he had to do was move the shower seat further back to make room for Michael. 

“Brush your teeth, sweetheart,” Alex instructed, in case Michael needed—or just wanted—the structure. Alex balked at orders that weren’t given to him under military command structure, but he suspected Michael liked them. He adjusted the seat, removed his shoes, socks, jeans and underwear, and then stepped into the tub to finish getting undressed. His prosthetic was a whole process, but nothing Michael hadn’t seen before. Finally came his shirts, which he dropped on the floor outside the tub. This done, he looked up at Michael, who stood, waiting for further instructions.

“Grab me the antibacterial ointment from the cabinet. We’ll want that in bed. Get the condoms and lube out, in case. Can you do that for me? I’m gonna brush my teeth and then I’ll be ready for you, okay?” 

Michael hurried to obey, swimming in satisfaction at each order followed. He bounced to the bedroom to leave the ointment on the nightstand and set out the lube and condoms, then back to the bathroom. He hovered at the side of the tub, waiting for more. He still hadn’t been told to take his clothes off, so he just stared hungrily at Alex’s naked back. He was so beautiful; Michael was entranced by every shift of muscles under his skin and the power in them, and when he thought about how that power had been turned on him earlier, his cock started to harden just a little bit trapped inside his jeans. He reached back to rub one of his bruises through his pants, just for an even more tactile reminder.

Alex spat and rinsed his mouth a final time in the tap before letting it run warm, as warm as he thought he could handle it. Then he sat back. “Alright, babe. Take off your clothes, go put all the dirty clothes in the hamper, mine too, and get in here.” 

Michael did, almost tripping over his own pants when he tried to walk and strip at the same time— “Easy!” Alex half-laughed, half-scolded—and then he climbed into the shower, almost putting his chest right in Alex’s lap. He smoothed his hands up Alex’s thighs and looked up at him, waiting for whatever happened next.

“Good,” Alex hummed, drawing Michael’s arms around his waist and squeezing them so he’d leave them there. The level of spray was a bit awkward this far back, hitting him in the chest and pouring over Michael’s eyes, but he didn’t need his eyes open for this. “How would you feel about sucking my cock while I wash your hair?” 

He didn’t want to order it, not with Michael so biddable. “Or I’ll wash your hair anyway, and you watch me jerk off. You’re way too hot to leave alone, Guerin.” 

Michael rubbed his palms over the smooth skin of Alex’s back and blinked water out of his eyes. “I want to blow you,” he said, all confidence, bending over to lick a large droplet off his inner thigh, following it up with his tongue, all the way up to his groin, where he sat and waited for the word go.

Alex just hummed, adjusting the spray so it hit Michael's back, and just the steam rolled over him. He held the back of Michael's head and gently moved him into position. "Okay, come here, sweetheart, open your mouth, and just...hold, right there, yeah. You just keep my cock warm and I'll wash your hair. How's that sound?"

Michael’s only answer was a long moan, and he dipped his head to lap at the base of Alex’s cock, up the shaft to the tip, and then he sucked it deep into his mouth. Alex said to keep it warm, but he couldn’t resist laving his tongue over that hot surface all the way down until he settled with his lips around the root and relaxed, rested his head against Alex’s thigh, and closed his eyes.

“Damn it, you’re so good,” Alex said, breath hitching as he adjusted himself and then Michael, a hand under his jaw and the back of his head until he was resting his chin on the edge of the shower chair. “Keep your lips closed and breathe through your nose.” 

Alex reached for the little bottle of no-poo wash that Maria had recommended for Michael’s curls and lathered up his hands, dragging it through the baby-soft locks that went straight and slick under the weight of the water. He rubbed his head with his fingertips for several long minutes before grabbing the hose and rinsing him off, and then applying a hair oil that they’d rinse off at the end. 

“O-okay,” Alex said, barely keeping it together as he released Michael. “Go to town, gorgeous. Make me come.” 

Dazed and  _ so  _ relaxed from the massaging of his scalp and the intoxicating warmth of the steam and the always-hypnotic ache in his jaw from being stretched around Alex’s cock, it took Michael a few seconds to register the order, but when he did, he wasted no more time. He pulled out every trick he’d learned from all his years of learning Alex—hollowed his cheeks around his length, applied just the right amount of suction and pressure. He rolled his heels against his ass to press on the bruises and make himself moan, buzzing his throat around Alex, and he worked his tongue against him feverishly, until Alex tugged him back by his hair and came across his upturned face, open mouth, extended tongue, red and swollen lips.

"Yyyeah, oh yeah, fuck," Alex groaned, losing his mind at how hot Guerin was, how good he looked like this, how good he was at giving head. He was going to need a minute, or possibly several. 

Michael was hard, and his cock twitched at the sensation and the taste when he licked his lips, but he couldn’t care too much if he came again tonight. He already had everything he needed, and he knew that Alex would take care of him, no matter what form that care took. 

"Don't, uh, don't move, precious," Alex finally ground out. "I'm gonna—you just let me finish up, and. I love you. Stay right there like that for me."

Alex finished his shower routine sluggishly. He'd save the shave for the morning, and really all he had to do was get soap and water on his pits and wash his hair and face, but doing all that while watching Michael try not to move and try not to lick cum off his face was easier said than done. 

Michael leaned his weight against the side of the tub, nestled his head in the crook of his arm, and watched Alex finish washing up. His knees only hurt a little bit. It was fine, everything was fine, everything was  _ more  _ than fine. He was dimly aware of how dopey he must look right now, lovestruck and strung out on it, sex-drunk and blissful, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. The feeling of Alex’s cum all over his face was a little uncomfortable, but that was just the physical, and it couldn’t hold a candle to the bone-deep feeling of being  _ claimed  _ by him in such a primal way.

Once Alex had washed off, he focused on Michael completely, rinsing his face and the rest of him. He thought about asking Michael to jerk off in here, but he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get Michael on his feet again after, and he kind of needed both of Michael’s legs. So he shut off the water and grabbed a towel, drying Michael’s face and hair with it. “I need you to stand up for me, Michael, okay? Take it easy, take your time. Dry off and wait for me.” 

Michael stood on wobbly legs, gone jellyish from the kneeling and from how relaxed he was, but he held on to the side of the shower until he felt steady enough to step over the low wall. He dried himself off slowly, thoroughly, making sure not to drip on the floor where Alex might slip, then hung his towel back on the hook to dry and turned to Alex, ready. It was cold as the steam started to dissipate, cold enough that his dick softened a bit and he shivered, but the bedroom would be warm, and under the covers with Alex even more so. 

“Thanks, Michael,” Alex whispered as he joined him, glad to lean on Michael instead of his bars and crutches. Practiced and pleased to be useful, Michael wrapped his arm around Alex’s waist, Alex’s arm went over his shoulders, and they walked together to the bedroom.

Alex sighed as they tumbled into bed, neither of them bothering to get dressed. Michael’s soft hiss as they went down reminded Alex of the ointment. “Come here, let me get that ointment on you. Show me that pretty ass.” 

With a murmur, Michael rolled over, reaching his arms out to the headboard and his toes to the end of the bed, stretching like a big cat, and he buried his face in a pillow, getting all comfortable. Alex called his ass  _ pretty,  _ so he even stuck it in the air just a little bit, too worn out to do much more than that, but more than happy enough to tease.

Alex chuckled, and any other time he might have given that ass a smack, but it was practically glowing in the dark already, so he didn’t. “Look at you, all marked up.” 

“Yeah,” Michael purred.

Alex smeared the cream liberally over his cheeks and thighs, taking his time and getting way more cream than was necessary in between his cheeks, until he was teasing Michael’s rim. He added lube to his fingers this time, massaging and teasing him open. He wasn’t sure if he was going to fuck Michael or just make him come on his fingers, or just tease him until he fell asleep. Probably the deciding factor was going to be how quickly Michael fell asleep. 

“How’s that feel?” 

The contrast of the cool, tingling ointment on his heated and sore skin was enough to have Michael squirming, toes curling from the weird pleasure of it all, and when Alex started massaging over his hole Michael made a garbled noise into the pillow. It was one of the quickest ways to drive him crazy, and Alex and Maria often had, rubbing him there but never penetrating, not until he begged himself hoarse for it. He could feel that Alex wasn’t torturing him any more tonight, though, and he jerked his head up on a gasp when one finger breached him, closing his eyes and grinning.

“So good,” he said. “‘M so relaxed. Wanna feel you.”

"I bet you do," Alex hummed. "Nothing makes you hungry for cock like a good spanking."

He teased one finger into him, slowly, grinning, just stretching his rim. The sight of Michael delirious but still trying to rock back onto his finger woke him up a bit. "Leave your hands there, show me how much you need it."

“Hahh. Yeah,  _ yeah,  _ nnh…” 

Oh, the barely-there stretch was perfect, the weight and heat of Alex’s other hand on his tailbone was perfect, pressing just enough to give Michael the security of being pinned as he rolled his hips and worked Alex’s finger in and out of himself. He curled his fingers against the headboard; he’d reach down to touch himself or back to touch Alex if he could, but at this point he’d no more disobey the slightest suggestion from Alex or Maria if she was here than he would get up and tapdance. 

“Good,” Alex said, finger-fucking him slowly, getting him nice and slick, nice and relaxed. “Up on your knees, baby,” he said as he added another finger. 

Getting his knees under him was a slow process, Michael moving like through molasses, and with every shifting of his muscles he paused to roll his hips, to fuck back on those two fingers, little zaps of pleasure lighting through him. Every breath came out a little moan, soft _ohh_ s and _ahhn_ s that faded into each other. 

Alex slid closer to him, kissing his arm and back as he leaned over Michael. As obedient as Michael was for him, Alex crooked his fingers, pressing on his prostate until he whined for him. Getting up onto his knees was a process for Alex, too, but this was going to be a much better angle, as he added even more lube, and opened a condom with his teeth as he knelt behind Michael. He didn’t know how  _ he  _ was ready to go again, already, but a writhing and moaning alien in your bed did things to your libido, it turned out. 

“Beg me for it, Michael,” Alex demanded, stretching him with three fingers and an unnecessary amount of lube, now. 

And oh, begging was the easiest thing about this entire night. He opened up for Alex, arched back for him, bared his throat and  _ begged.  _

“Please, Alex, please, fuck— _ fuck me,  _ I need it, need  _ you,  _ oh fuck,  _ please— _ ”

“Easy, easy, I’m gonna give it to you,” Alex said, rubbing his shoulder, and at another time he might have realized how weird that was, that he liked Michael desperate and needy only so he could calm him down. He and Maria might talk about it someday, if they could ever get over the awkwardness of fucking each other’s boyfriend, how they needed to be needed by him and his freaky godlike powers and his genius and his stunted emotions. How had no one else before them wanted this like they wanted it, snatched him up (because Michael would take anyone who loved him, of course)? That’s why Alex and Maria had this alliance, because Michael needed—deserved—could handle and could give back—double the love. 

Michael’s ass was hot and sticky with the ointment once he got up on his knees behind him, but Alex didn’t hold back, letting Michael sink into that grounding ache as he began to fuck him—not gently, but not  _ too  _ rough, either. “You think you can come just from this?” he teased, hands gripping his hips and not his cock. “I hope so, or you’re gonna have to get better at begging.” 

Michael grabbed fistfuls of the sheets with restless, grasping hands and cried out, voice hitching with every snap of Alex’s hips. He wasn’t sure if he would come, but in the moment he didn’t care, because all he wanted was to be used—to be  _ fucked  _ until Alex came inside him. It satisfied the deepest, neediest itch inside Michael’s skull for Alex or Maria to take their pleasure out on him and leave him all wrung out and quiet and empty inside in the best fucking way, when he was usually so loud and so full he could barely think. 

“Alex, Alex,” he moaned, shuddering on every impact of Alex’s hips against his ass, solid and grounding, yipping every time Alex nudged his prostate, and god, it was perfect, for all it was sticky and slick and they were both tired—Michael clenched around Alex’s cock, sore muscles fluttering in his thighs and ass, and he let out another open-mouthed cry of pleasure. Fuck, maybe he  _ could  _ come like this, untouched and on fire.

“Fucking shit, Guerin,” Alex swore, because Michael was so incredibly hot like this he couldn’t think straight. His hands moved on their own, one to grab a fistful of Michael’s hair for leverage and the other for the reacharound. He stroked Michael idly, still, like he wanted him to come mostly on his cock, but willing to help him along a bit. “You’re gorgeous like this, Michael. Perfect for me. Perfect for  _ us _ .”

Alex came quickly after that, and grunted, “Fuck. Come for me, Michael,” and fucked him all through his own orgasm, feeling like he was going to pass out afterward, so if Michael wanted any help he was going to have to come now. 

The pull of Alex’s hand in his hair, the sharp angle of his head, the pressure of Alex’s cock inside him and rubbing his prostate and just the  _ barest  _ friction on his own, it all collapsed in on one perfect point of release, and Michael came too, sobbing and trembling and weak, melting into the mattress as soon as Alex let him go, hugging the pillow to his chest and shivering through the aftershocks, panting and wrecked.

He reached out for Alex right away, wanting to be back in his arms, not caring at all about cleaning up even if it meant ruining Alex’s sheets—Michael could wash them tomorrow. He was so tired, so out of his head with exhausted pleasure, the room was spinning a little bit, and he needed to hold on to Alex to keep himself grounded.

"It's okay, Michael, it's okay, beautiful, I'm here," Alex promised, holding him tight, not even pulling out until it got physically uncomfortable. Michael clung to his arms, breathing harshly, almost like he was on the verge of really crying, raw-edged and open. Michael was so easy to indulge, and it gave Alex a rush to be this for him. "You're okay. You're so good. I've got you."

Alex waited until they were both breathing mostly normally before pulling out, wincing, and taking off the condom one-handed. Ah, there went the whole reason for using a condom in the first place—making clean up easier—as he made a complete mess. He laughed and threw it vaguely at the trash in the dark. At least Michael tended to be cheerful about changing sheets. "Ugh, it’s gonna be such a mess in the morning. Ten years of military discipline  _ gone _ after ten months with Michael Guerin."

“‘S why you love me,” Michael slurred smugly, snuggling down and not even caring about the wet spot. 

“I do, I love you,” Alex agreed, kissing Michael’s neck and arranging them into a comfortable sleeping position, with Michael tucked up against his side and an arm around his shoulders. Alex stroked his hair, thinking fondly about how Michael was so tameable, so biddable, so good when they  _ both  _ worked him, and even better afterward, when he and Maria took turns reaping the reward.

After a second, Michael’s brain caught up, and he added, “Love you too.”

He was gonna be so sore in the morning, but that was tomorrow Michael’s problem, because right now Michael was as happy and content as he’d ever been. 

Michael groped for his phone and fired off a quick goodnight text to Maria; she might not see it or be able to reply for a couple more hours, but by then he’d be long asleep. Then he laid back down and took a deep breath of Alex’s scent on the sheets, and closed his eyes.

“Tell her I said goodnight, too,” Alex tried, then took Michael’s phone off him when he practically fell asleep immediately, and texted her himself. He managed to get Michael’s phone onto the nightstand, though not plugged in, just barely before he fell asleep himself. 


	3. Chapter 3

Alex kept him and pampered him for most of Saturday, and by the time Michael went home that evening he was still grinning at random moments, like whenever he thought about Alex’s hands in his hair, or whenever he twisted in the mirror to look at the mark of Maria’s ring just at the crease where his ass met his thigh, or whenever he felt the brush of his jeans against his skin and a shiver of delicious pain went through him. Sunday morning he slept in (on his stomach), and when he woke up it was bright and breezy outside, so he went out to tinker in one of the old beaters Sanders sometimes left around just to see if he could fix.

Michael’s phone buzzed while he was working, but he was elbow deep in an engine and his hands were covered in grease. It buzzed again, enough times that he relented and washed up so he could check it, just in case somebody needed another body moved or something.

It turned out to be several texts from Maria.

10:27AM: Can you meet me at th hardware store?

10:32AM: like, sometime today? Are you free?

10:45AM: If not, what kind of rope do you think you’d look good in? 

10:46AM: Like what color? ;) ;) call me 

10:59AM: I’m thinking blue. Green? I’ll see what they got

Smiling to himself, he tucked his towel in his back pocket and pressed _call._ When she picked up, he said, “I know you had dibs, DeLuca, but I didn’t know we’d be gettin’ such an early start. Miss me that much?”

“I always miss you. The bar’s so well-behaved when your boyfriend has got you on a leash,” Maria commented. “I’ve got plans for you, my dear. What color would you say your eyes were? Alex and I argue about this a lot."

“I dunno, hazel?” Feeling a little stupid, he held the wrench up and studied one eye in the reflection. “Am I gonna be naked for your Instagram followers again? Is that why we’re talking aesthetics? You know at some point my sister is going to follow you, I don’t know if I can live with that.”

“Hazel, that’s such a dude answer,” Maria muttered. “If Isobel finds my alt _and_ she recognizes your ass but not your face, that’s gonna be her problem. But yes. You are. I’m still thinking blue. Blue always looks good on white boys. Can you meet me at Home Depot?” 

“When?”

“Like right now? Love you, baby, bye!” 

“Love you too,” Michael said and hung up with a laugh and a shake of his head. He straight-up didn’t get anything about social media, but he was always more than happy to model for Maria, since she seemed to enjoy it so much. All it took was being still and quiet—after long enough under her hands, she made it very easy for him. And from the comments she’d shown him, whatever magic she did with the lighting to make him look so good? She was damn good at it.

He scrubbed his hands up good and changed into a slightly less grease-stained shirt; not that it mattered a ton, since he’d just end up with it off anyway. He got to the hardware store just a few minutes after Maria, and he was honestly glad not to have to wait—sitting was better today than it was yesterday, but not exactly what he’d call _fun._

(Except it was. He loved the constant reminder and hated it with a petulant fervor every time it faded and he had to get used to _not_ having the reminder again. Even if it did make driving a little problematic.)

Pocketing his keys, he bounded over to where Maria was waiting in her car, and kissed her through the rolled-down window in lieu of a greeting.

“Oh, good, there you are,” Maria said, patting her passenger seat. “Come here and sit down—unless you’re not sitting, still?—I want you to look at this book so you know what I’m looking for. I took some notes, but I don’t know, you and hardware? Is that an unfair stereotype? Anyway.” 

Michael swung in beside her with a laugh and didn’t miss the shine in her eyes when he held himself up a bit instead of making full contact with the seat.

“No worries, DeLuca, if I couldn’t find my way around a Home Depot blindfolded at this point I’d be in some serious shit. What’re we looking for? You know if it’s a repair thing I could’ve checked to make sure I didn’t already have what you need.”

(He had a feeling it wasn’t a repair thing.)

She handed him a book, shiny and softcovered, with a dude just full on tied up on the front of it. The title read _The Ultimate Guide to Bondage: Creating Intimacy through the Art of Restraint_ and it was written by someone calling herself “Mistress” so, uh, that tracked. “I’ve really always wanted to learn shibari, and the book finally came! So we’re here for rope.” 

He flipped the book open to the back looking for some kind of index of materials, and then to the table of contents instead, thumbing through to find the right chapter. He tried to focus on the words instead of the diagrams that had his mouth suddenly dry and his heart beating faster.

Thinking of himself so tightly controlled and restrained and at Maria’s mercy…

“Um.” His voice caught, and he cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah, we can get this stuff here, no big deal.” The price might add up depending on how much of it they needed, but if he was being the expert he could nudge her to the cheaper stuff. Hopefully. He snapped the book shut and cleared his throat again. He ducked his chin at the guy on the cover and said, “So is the man bun, like, mandatory, or…”

Maria shrugged. 

“Maybe I’ll decide once I’ve got you wrapped up in a nice neat bundle, when you can’t stop me,” she said matter-of-factly. She was glad to see not only that Michael’s face had gone a little pink and he tugged at the crotch of his jeans a little, but his face was doing that _calculating_ thing. She’d taken her own notes, but she was always accepting suggestions. She just hoped he wasn’t calculating money. It was definitely going to hurt her more than it hurt him if she had to spank him again. “Ready, or you need to tuck it into your waistband, Mr. Guerin?” 

He put the book under the seat and climbed out of the car. “Please, Ms. DeLuca, the cowboy swagger is kinda my thing, if you hadn’t noticed. I’m an expert at walking bowlegged at this point.”

—

They drove their separate cars back to Maria’s place, of course, and Michael spent the drive with two different sensations squirming in his belly. The first was the nervous-happy anticipation he always got when Maria wanted to try something new; the second was the familiar anxiety about the receipt Maria hadn’t let him look at. She told him again and again that it was her job to take care of him this way and that included footing the bill, but that didn’t stop it from bothering him.

He wanted to be...well, if not _over it,_ he wanted to have it under control by the time they met back up at Maria’s. It was an old argument, and not something he wanted to tarnish their day—or Michael’s whole weekend—with. He shifted his weight in his seat and hissed at the pain, and it took his mind off things all the way until he was at Maria’s door.

“Why don’t you take the tags off the ropes for me and get them unwound? I’ll fix us some food and have you clear off the coffee table?” Maria asked, leading the way into her little house and dumping her purse on the couch, letting Michael make himself at home. Her house was cluttered and kitschy and always smelled nice, and she was talking way too much for him to be distracted by money. 

Michael bent to remove his boots, wincing at the motion. Leaving them by the door, he padded into the garage and fetched a beer for each of them, bringing Maria’s to her in the kitchen. He dropped a kiss on her temple and ambled back out to the sitting area. The ropes still had the tags on them but no price stickers, and the receipt was gone. She probably did that on purpose, too. 

Rope unwound and left curled on the couch, he started in on clearing off the sturdy coffee table, glad to keep his hands busy instead of thinking too hard.

“How bruised is your poor ass, seriously?” Maria asked when this was done. “I mean I guess I’ll see it later. It still hurts to sit?” 

“Pretty tender, but nothing I can’t handle.”

“Of course not, you can handle anything,” Maria said, sounding slightly more annoyed than impressed. “But your next project is figuring out where my support beams are and installing a hook that would hold your weight.” 

She carried a party platter over—as crowded as her house, full of chips, olives, sliced cheese, almonds, cubed cheese, leftover Easter chocolate, pickles, grapes, and chex mix—and kissed Michael soundly again, tasting either of pickles or olives. “Eat up, don’t make me put all this back. You want to put on the TV or some music? You’ll just be sitting there, I guess, for most of this. Give me a minute, I’ve got to study!”

With that, Maria pulled the book out of her purse and flipped to a bookmark, cuddling close to Michael on the couch. 

Michael picked his way through the snacks, leaving Maria all her favorites even as she shot him an impossibly fond look when she realized what he was doing. 

“Whatever is good, I guess,” he said. “I can’t imagine myself getting bored.”

"Really? You?" Maria said, cracking the spine of her new book viciously so it lay open to a page with some basic instructions. "You're always moving and wiggling. You tell me if you change your mind."

Maria grabbed one of the shorter ropes and strung a loop around the back of Michael's neck to pull him into a kiss. "This one I think we have to stand up for. Maybe I'll stand on the coffee table." 

Using Michael as balance, she scrambled up on it. 

Michael steadied her. “Maybe you just gotta give me enough to think about that I don’t get bored,” he teased. 

The touch of the rope just on the back of his neck felt all shivery with promise, him hyperaware of it and of how it might feel when it was covering so much more of his skin, binding him tightly in place. Knots like the ones in the book, if he wanted to untie them it might take minutes. It was an entirely different sort of bondage than what they’d played with before—cuffs they both knew he could snap with a single thought. Maria had a pair of safety shears carefully set nearby, so there was no real danger of being stuck or hurt, but it still did something to Michael to know how much trust he would be handing over—even more than usual. 

Almost shy at the thought of it, he swayed forward to kiss her again, even though she might not want to be distracted at the moment.

“See! You’re wiggly!” Maria giggled, squirming away though her lips were drawn inexorably to his. “I’m just going to try a pretty standard harness over your clothes—though we could do this _under_ your clothes sometime, too. How’d you like me sending you to work dressed like a present for me under your ratty jeans and t-shirts, hm? Or for Alex?” 

Maria looped the rope between his legs and back up through the loop at the nape of his neck, and then had to look at the diagram again, criss-crossing the rope (this one was black) over his chest, leaving his arms free. 

Michael stood still to let her work, face on fire from her words, from the thought of what Alex might do or say if they surprised him with this. And from the thought of what it would be like to set that up—meeting Maria early in the morning, maybe even going to wait for her after she got off work, so she could wrap him up and tie him tight before sending him off on his day. He _tried_ not to squirm at the thought of it.

“Really? No thoughts on that?” Maria teased when Michael didn’t say anything, though she knew he was affected because she had to cup his package to loop the ropes around him, finally tying the situation off at the small of his back. 

“Oh, I’ve got thoughts,” Michael said, clearing his throat. “Just didn’t want to—uh—interrupt the delicate work.” Unable to stand still any longer (okay, _fine,_ it’s never been his strong suit), he shifted to test the tightness of the ropes, see how much he could make them shift and rub against his skin. Which turned out to be not that much, which was probably for the best—he didn’t exactly relish the thought of rope burn right next to his junk. “You think Alex would like it?”

"I think in front of _me_ Alex would get all huffy," Maria laughed, now turning Michael around and taking his arms behind him to figure out what the book called a 'box tie' with the slack. "And then he'd get you home and take you for the ride of your life. I'm willing to make this sacrifice for you and for him."

“You’re too good to me, DeLuca,” Michael purred. He flexed his shoulders in her grip. Nothing pulled—if anything, the rope was a little _too_ slack, though it didn’t slip very much. It was weird—he couldn’t remember ever having been touched this much _over_ his clothes, and he couldn’t decide if he liked it or not. It was new, and new was always good with Maria and Alex: he loved to be challenged, and pushed, and staying still was one of the biggest challenges of all. But at the same time, his clothes dulled the touch, kept him from the texture and warmth of hands on him, and he was less of a fan of that.

“You barely know what normal-good is, sweetheart, how would you even know what ‘too good’ is?” Maria teased, with an edge of truth in it, the way she always teased that made him feel a little raw but seen and known. She completed the tie with some loops around his elbows, keeping them locked in against his body, and she finished him off with a kiss to the back of his neck. 

Then Maria stepped back to admire her work. “Mm, you look like I just caught you at the hardware store and brought you home like this to snack on later.” 

“All thanks to your handiwork, I’m sure,” Michael replied with a grin. “You should kiss me anyway, though.” 

He couldn’t reach out and touch her like this, but that was okay. He tangled his fingers together behind his back and leaned forward a little bit, with an added flutter of his eyelashes for effect. 

“Of course,” Maria said, turning him towards her and setting her arms on his shoulders as she drew him into a slow, sensual kiss. She curled her hands in his hair and got lost in the whiskey-taste and rain-smell of him. Every time she felt that energy in him shift, felt his muscles move or make an attempt at moving, she smiled, until she couldn’t kiss him anymore because she was laughing. “You testing those knots, baby?” 

“‘Course,” he echoed, licking his lips for one last taste of her, “You know me. Gotta test those limits. But you’ve got me trussed up but good; I don’t think I’m gettin’ away.” 

He pulled at the knots again, just to feel them stop him.

“So what’s next on the agenda?”

Maria hummed. “For right now…” 

She hopped down from the coffee table and laid herself out on the couch, with the tray of snacks and TV remote close at hand. Then she used the harness as it was intended: that is, for grabbing him and manhandling him on top of her, catching him as he collapsed helplessly into her arms. “Come here.” 

Michael went down with a laugh, and when they were nose to nose he said, “Hey there. Come here often?” and only laughed more when she gave him a light smack. He shifted a little bit to make sure he wasn’t crushing her, and moved around until he could comfortably lay his head on her chest, so they could both watch whatever she put on TV.

“Oh, yeah, this is good,” Maria said, wriggling around and shifting Michael in her arms until they were both comfortable. Her house actually had real A/C, and it was kind of cool inside, so she tugged a throw-blanket off the back and tossed it over Michael to keep him cozy, and then wrapped her legs around his legs. It might have looked a bit silly, but it was very comfortable. “And now I get to hand-feed you! I’m in the mood for something sweet. Maybe the _Knight Before Christmas_...” 

The splash page of one of those Hallmark-type movies came up on the screen. Not Michael’s idea of Netflix and chill. 

“ _Maria,_ ” Michael whined, closing his eyes in protest. “Anything else. Literally, anything else. I will do nothing but eat you out for a week—”

“You’ll do that anyway,” she cackled.

“You said you were worried about me getting bored with nothing to do, not that you were _actively trying to murder me with it._ ”

“Stop being so fussy!” Maria complained, laughing at him and hugging him. “You had your chance to choose and now I’m in charge. You’ll either like it or you’ll fall asleep. Come on! Look, it isn’t often we get a multiracial star of one of these dumb shows and she gets her a tall, curly-haired guy who has landed in a world not his own! You can relate! Look,” she said, and unwrapped a chocolate, knowing Michael’s weakness for sweets, and holding it out for him. “Shut up and watch.” 

Michael proceeded to spend the entire movie grumbling about how he did _not_ relate to the curly-haired guy and also that “his sword looks fake as hell, I could make a better one out of scrap in an hour,” until he did eventually doze off under the hypnotic power of Maria’s warmth against him, her gently petting hands, and Christmas movies in April.

Maria kept squeezing his hands throughout the movie, to check if they felt too cold or too warm, though actually the tie was quite loose and even comfortable. So when the movie was over she encouraged him awake with kisses and promises of chocolate and freedom and definitely no chick flicks. When that didn’t work, she gave his ass a firm squeeze. “Let me get dinner heated up, and then we’ll go into my room. Did you have a good nap?” 

“I plead the fifth,” Michael grumbled, rubbing his ass but letting himself be rolled to the side so Maria could get free. “In case saying yes means you’re going to make me watch it every time I can’t sleep.”

“Nah, we can put on _Lord of the Rings_ for that.” 

Complaining aside, he was feeling good, still drowsy but settled and rested and flush-faced from resting against body heat for so long. The tie felt natural, if a little awkward when he sat himself up without using his hands. He blinked up at Maria, unsure if he was going to be untied now or after dinner.

Maria ruffled his hair and kissed him, pressing another chocolate to his lips when they parted. “Why don’t you try untying yourself? I want to see if you can do it with your brain. Maybe I’ll time you.”

She grabbed her phone and set a timer, leaving it counting up on the coffee table while she walked around the bar to her kitchen. “Hit pause when you’re done.” 

With a huff, Michael sat back and concentrated. It was different, a little, from untying a knot with your hands; the tightness mattered less, and the delicacy mattered more. If your fingers slipped on a knot you might jab yourself, but if Michael’s mind slipped he’d just be stuck here forever. The bindings around his arms took the longest to undo, but once he was free of those he gamely undid the rest with his mind as well, only picking up the timer when the rope was neatly coiled on the coffee table. A little over ten minutes. Not bad, all things considered.

“I’m free,” he called over his shoulder.

“Ooh!” Maria called, beckoning him to the kitchen to taste the enchilada sauce. “That seemed pretty fast! Next time it’ll be tighter, of course. Possibly more complex.” She held a bite of enchilada sauce up to his mouth, cupping her hand under his chin. 

He took the bite and hummed at it. “Delicious as always. Should I be sandbagging? There gonna be a test later?” He teased, but just from his quick flip through the book earlier there were some pretty intense things in there. Things that could keep him occupied for probably half an hour or more, even if there was no suspension involved.

“No,” Maria laughed, shoving his chest lightly, and then more seriously moving him around to a barstool so he was out of her way. “No, I just want to get a ballpark! That’s more fun, right? If you’re really stuck, even if it’s just for ten minutes?” Maria winked at him as she started heating up corn tortillas on the stove. “It must be rough, being into bondage and being able to pick locks with your brain.” 

Michael was quiet for a second, thinking it through. “I...yeah. Honestly, I kind of just didn’t think about it, ‘cause I’m not willing to do anything that actually limits my abilities, even though we know a couple things that could do it harmlessly. Freaks me out.” 

“Oh, no! I didn’t mean—anything like that,” Maria protested, leaning across the counter. “I guess I was just wondering if you ever _wanted..._ like, anything more.” 

He drummed his fingers on his knee, then forced himself to stop and look up at her. “I know that’s not what you meant, just...yeah. I do like being tied up normally—I like that you know I could get out instantly but that I don’t. Like I’m choosing to be yours every single second, y’know? But mentally, yeah, this is...different. A lot. I guess I didn’t know this was something I _could_ have.”

Now Maria smiled, turning back to her tortillas. “Okay, that’s good to hear. _You’re_ too good to _us_ , sometimes, and so it’s nice to know you’re not just indulging me and my kinks or doing it for the ‘gram or whatever. You’d let me know if the ropes get freaky ever, right?” 

“Yeah, ‘course. But I think I’ll like it, as long as you don’t, I dunno, tie me up and leave me there. Which I know you wouldn’t do unless I had a way to let you know if it was too much.” He shrugged, then smiled. He loved watching Maria in the kitchen almost as much as he liked cooking for her (which he didn’t do as often as he did for Alex—Maria was both very protective of her DeLuca family recipes _and_ very adamant that nothing could possibly surpass them). He loved a lot of the littlest domestic things, like taking his shoes off right inside the door, and cleaning off her coffee table. 

“No, I like looking at you too much,” Maria agreed, starting to hand things to Michael, like a cutting board and half an onion and some tomatoes. For all that he was a pretty face, Michael wasn’t an idiot in the kitchen, which she liked, and was a quite competent sous chef, _unlike_ Alex. 

“The ‘gram, huh? We havin’ another photoshoot, then?”

“Yeah—oh! Ugh! I should have gotten some pictures before! You’ll have to try to reverse-untie yourself with your brain now. That should be pretty easy, right? Isn’t there a command for that somewhere in your alien brain? CTRL+Z?” Maria laughed at her own joke, keeping plates and tortillas warm in the oven as she hunted down limes for Michael to cut. 

“Considering I undid them behind my back so I don’t even have my badass genius memory of seeing them to rely on? Not likely.” 

Maria clicked her tongue. “Worth a shot.”


	4. Chapter 4

They worked together to finish dinner and ate quickly—or Michael did, at least, eager to get to the bedroom. (At least her dining chairs were nicely cushioned.) Maria took her time a little more, smirking at him every time he squirmed or lifted his weight to get a little relief on a particularly sore spot. After, Michael quickly cleaned up while Maria did a little more studying, and then he went to join her.

“Beautiful, Guerin, thank you,” she said, throwing both arms around him as she kissed him. “You should probably go to the bathroom again, make sure you’re hydrated and all that, but not _too_ hydrated…and get naked for me. Just gotta make my bed.” 

He did as he was told, making sure to be back in the bedroom before stripping off nice and slow, hamming it up, giving her a show.

“Ooh, _yeah_ , baby,” Maria said, straightening up from making her bed to find Michael already giving her a pretty show. “See you _say_ you can’t dance, but you’ve got the moves.” 

“You’ve _seen_ me dance, you know it’s true. I’m just a natural at taking my clothes off.”

Then, once he was undressed and waiting, he fingered the blue rope Maria bought just for this. She’d distracted him from looking at the price by wrapping it around her knuckles and pressing it against his cheek, both to check the contrast of it against his eyes—her words—and so he felt the texture of it on his skin and got a little preview of what was to come. A little shiver ran through him at the thought of how close he was to feeling it prickling all over his body, now. 

Maria knelt on the bed and drew Michael toward her and to the center of the bed, where the rope and books were laid out. “I think I want you on your back to start. Legs first.” 

It felt a little silly at first, laying on his back with his knees up to his chest and Maria kneeling over him. And it _was_ hard to not move, not to stretch out or scratch an itch or anything. She crossed a fading welt, the lowest on the back of his thigh, and he jumped a bit, her soothing him with soft words and touches. And eventually Michael’s mind settled and he just kind of chilled, moving where he was put, letting Maria work.

One of the biggest differences between Maria and both boys was that Maria wasn't afraid to screw up and start over. She kept things safe, for the most part, not exactly _freewheeling_ shibari bondage the way she experimented when she cooked, but it was a near thing, and soon they were laughing about how the circulation was cut off at Michael's toe or he was about to be strangled. She wasn't stupid, however, and learned from her mistakes better than Michael or Alex ever could, because messing up didn't seem to faze her, at all.

They'd just laugh and she'd start again and Michael would get to scratch his nose or whatever. When his head hit the pillow afterward, though, his laugh turned a little more breathless and disbelieving. He really was surprisingly okay. He hadn’t known to expect this would be so...casual? Mostly, it had just been them messing around and talking like normal, except Michael was naked and being tied up. Maria had this gorgeous way of controlling her own intensity and bringing him right along with her, giving them days like today as well as days where he knew nothing but her, and serving her.

At some point, Maria paused to rid herself of her jeans. “Okay, here we go,” Maria told him, folding his legs up to his chest. “Where do you want me to tuck your dick? Gonna get you in a full ball tie this time.” 

“You’re gonna do what to my balls?” Michael laughed, but he also instinctively rolled his bound knees away, tucked protectively up to his chest.

Maria spluttered as she laughed. “No! No no _no_ —I mean, we _could_ , if that’s something you wanted—I was not thinking we’d go there on the first date with the rope but we will revisit that question…” Maria wiped her eyes and took a deep breath, and grabbed the book, angling it to show Michael the end picture. “A ball tie is this. Where you are _in_ a ball, all folded up in a neat little package. It says it usually gets uncomfortable pretty quick, so you let me know, but my guess is if the 'pod squad' didn’t get creaky joints after like 50 years in the fetal position, it may not—anyway, we’ll see.” 

Michael laughed along with her and rolled back into position. “Sounds good. Let’s do it. Just let me stretch first and I bet I can outlast the limits of feeble human joints.” 

When this was done, he stretched his arms over his head, twisted his body a few times, shook some kinks out of his legs, and when he crawled back onto the bed he crawled right up to her, kissing a line from her stomach to her chest, between her breasts, and up her neck to her mouth as he went, grinning all the way, humming against her skin a couple times to tickle her. Being cuffed to the headboard always made him feel close to his partner—knowing they wanted him, wanted to keep him—but this was so much _more_ so it had him feeling all sappy.

“I mean, I can just watch you _stretch_ all day,” Maria hummed, delighted. “Better than porn.” 

She had even been forgetting to take pictures, honestly, her phone somewhere else. She was amazed she had the patience for this when all she wanted to do was wrap him up in a whirlwind, like a black widow but at Tasmanian Devil speeds, and just spend the rest of the evening and most of the night drinking her fill of him. “But okay. No screwing around this time.” 

Now she was focused, going step by meticulous step in the book, making sure everything was secure and snug but not too tight. She didn’t ask about his dick this time, just tucked it snug against his belly as she bound his thighs together and then against his chest. _She_ was sweating by the end, from lifting and shoving and pulling, as the final loops wound around his ankles, hips, knees, and back, tucking his elbows in tighter to his sides. 

“Okay,” she panted, smiling and wiping hair out of her face, little bits that had gone curly around her temples and the back of her neck. “Fingers and toes check? How’s that?” 

“Feels good. No circulation issues—looks like a little bit of practice goes a long way.” He flexed his fingers—his hands were bound on top of his knees—but that was about as much as he could move, apart from swiveling his head. He could tell, yeah, how this was going to get uncomfortable kind of fast, but for now he could pull and pull against it and not feel any give at all, and it kind of...mellowed him out, in a weird way. Some of that constant, jittering urge bled out of him when all he could do was wiggle his toes. 

“What do you think?” he asked. “Good look for me?”

"Oh, this is a _very_ good look for you," Maria purred, sitting back to get a good look at him, keeping a hand on the back of his neck, stroking through his baby-fine hair. "The blue was a good choice. You look…"

Then she caught a look at his eyes, and saw how Quiet he had gone, and her smile went soft. "You look so comfy I don't even know how I can bring myself to torture you even a little bit like this."

“Dig deep, DeLuca, I’m sure you’ll find the gumption,” Michael said with a saucy wink. “Think about it, I’m all dressed up, nowhere to go...what’s the number one thing you’ve wanted to do with me like this?”

Maria kissed him, just a little hard and biting, pushing him over onto his side, since he was kinda just too helpless like this not to take full advantage—oh, he could probably move himself anywhere he wanted with his powers if he were dedicated, but she was interested in the man more than the alien right now. "Maybe you'll let me show you?"

“Want to make me beg for it? Please, Maria, I’m all yours—” he said, teasing but with a solid iron core of sincerity, looking over his shoulder to bat his eyelashes at her.

"Oh, I don't need convincing, just permission," Maria said airily, and started rummaging in something behind him, where he couldn't see no matter how he craned his neck and wriggled. 

She had quite a collection of sex toys, and she considered _for a long time_ just using a strap on and fucking him with it, but really she wanted his mouth on her, and just something else to keep him vaguely interested in the meantime, as a treat. 

Or else something that would make him come so hard he went blind. 

Michael couldn’t see what she was up to, but he knew the sound of that drawer well by now and grinned to himself as a little shiver of anticipation ran down his spine and pooled in his stomach, tightening with real arousal for the first time since they started in with the ropes.

“Alright, I think you’re gonna like this little guy, I know I do,” Maria said, sidling up behind him and laying a hand on the side of his leg, like she might let a horse know she was there so she didn’t get kicked. Not that Michael was going to be kicking anyone any time soon, but…

Humming, she began to massage over his hole, not even teasing him all that much, just warming the area up with lube and her fingers a bit before she started fingering him open. Under normal circumstances she might smack his ass a little and tell him to widen his stance, but his ass was still all bruised up and he couldn’t spread his legs even if he wanted to (and he probably wanted to). 

It was the work of just a few minutes to open him up enough to slide the bullet vibrator into him, with its attached remote to control the vibrations set off to the side where she’d be able to reach it. “How’s that, baby?” she asked. 

Michael let out a soft moan, reflexively clenching his hole in lieu of being able to do anything else, to arch into it or bury his face in his arms or... _anything._ The vibe was small, and she hadn’t used that many fingers, so he had no stretch to sink himself into, nothing to pull focus—his stomach trembled now with the anticipation, and he nodded his readiness to move on to whatever she wanted next.

Oh, he was so responsive like this, and that was what Maria loved about him. For a guy who she thought for years had been so private and aloof, Michael just opened up like a flower the second he felt he trusted you even a little. Not that that was maybe the best metaphor when she was staring at his asshole, but whatever. “Alright, work with me here, I’m gonna turn you over, I want you on your knees so you can eat me out. Since, you know, you fell asleep through my movie, anyway.” 

She laughed as she rolled him first onto his back, and then to his other side, and then up onto his knees. “You know, I bet there’s a porn version of that movie. Make Alex download it for me. We could watch that.” 

Michael just groaned at that, not dignifying it with any more of a response. He looked up at her as best he could without hurting his neck. Normally, he would start by sliding forward, running the tip of his nose up her inner thigh, kissing or nipping the sensitive skin there, led by the sound of her reactions and the strength of her grip in his hair, until he reached the center of her thighs. But he couldn’t do any of that right now.

Maria actually had to prop him up with a pillow under his knees so that when she slid under him, with a bunch of pillows at her back then, too, she had enough room that she could arch up into him and control the angle, since he couldn't. And then she remembered to take off her panties.

"Okay," she panted, once she was settled, and, sensing Michael's frustration with his limited mobility, skipped straight to running her hands through his hair. "Pretend you've already given me the foreplay I need. Because you have. I'm so wet for you like this, Guerin. Start where the kissing turns to licking."

And Michael did, stroking his tongue over her folds and then in, tasting that what she said was true, that she was already drenched, radiating heat, and Michael let out a little sound, half-sigh, half-moan at her being so turned on just from watching him, from having him like this. He licked at her until his lips and tongue were tingling, moving down and up to work her clit, rubbing it with the tip and then the flat of his tongue, sucking on it until she _yanked_ at him and he went back to driving inside her, eager and hungry to make her come as many times as she wanted.

"Oh, oh, yeah," Maria groaned, alternating letting him do his own thing (he did know what he was doing, she had already trained him well, and he took instruction like a champ) and grabbing him by the hair and rubbing off on his tongue or chin until she let him get back to it, finally, finally, waiting until she gave him the word before he started on her clit, and then it wasn't long before she came with a loud low groan, pulling him into her until he couldn't breathe. 

"Fuck, yes," she said as she released him, petting his hair more softly. "Good boy. Oh, very good boy."

Then her hand went to the remote, turning the bullet on at one of the lower settings. 

Still panting to catch his breath, face smeared with her slick, Michael jerked and let out a _nnnh_ as the vibrations started, helpless to do anything but stay there and _feel._ He was already so hard for her, but he knew it would likely be a long time before she let him find any release—a thought that made him whine and duck his head submissively, ready at any moment to beg.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Maria said, giggling a little as she shifted slightly, getting her pussy right in front of his face. “Did I say you could stop?” 

And if she rewarded him by edging the dial up on the remote, well, he was a very good boy. 

With a shudder, Michael started in again, gentler at first while she was sensitive then ramping up again as she tugged at his hair and raked her nails across his shoulders. He ate her out desperately, straining to lick as deep into her as he possibly could, and the whole time he shifted and shook in her bondage, fingers fluttering on top of his knees, toes curling, body clenching down on the little vibrator buzzing away inside him, and the moans he couldn’t hold back vibrated against her too, adding to the pleasure. 

When she came a second time, really warmed up for it, Maria actually found herself hooking a leg around the back of his neck and screaming.

“Oh, shit. Oh, shit,” she said, when she let him breathe. “Okay. That was good, babe. You’re good at this.” 

She gave his face a cursory wipe with a towelette and rolled him onto his side, head on a pillow, letting him breathe. “Now what do we have to do to get you to come, when I couldn’t even touch your cock if I wanted to?” 

“I…” Michael trailed off, licking his lips, trying to get his thoughts in a straight line, “ _Ah—”_ Another wave of pleasure cascaded through him, sparking across his nerves and giving him dangerous thoughts, making him want to to test limits, the way he always did but hadn’t yet, thrown off-kilter by the new variable of the rope. But he grinned his wildest grin, let his eyes slip shut and said, “I dunno, DeLuca, maybe you should tell me.”

“Oh, like if I _order_ you to come for me, you little slut?” Maria asked with a challenging little laugh, rolling him once more, roughly, until he ended up on his back. She grabbed his hair, this time to yank his head back, and licked along his jaw before sucking a hickey on his neck while she crept the dial slowly all the way up. 

“Oh, f- _fuck—”_ Michael shouted, back trying to bend with nowhere to go, throbbing ache between his legs that he had no relief for, couldn't even squeeze his legs together or buck his hips against it. “Fuck, Maria!” 

He clenched his jaw hard trying to muffle the scream that jumped into his throat when the vibe hit its maximum setting, tossing his head against the pillow. It felt so good, it _hurt,_ he needed _more—_ his mouth fell open on another groan; his eyes rolled back in his head, but still he couldn’t come, couldn’t _quite_ reach that edge and carry over, so he sobbed out Maria’s name again and again.

“That’s it, _oh_ , that’s it, baby,” Maria encouraged, leaving one hand in his hair while she reached down between his legs, sliding her middle finger into his already well-lubed asshole in search of his prostate. While she bore down on that, she got her thumb between his legs and could just reach his poor squished balls, massaging him with her thumb. “I know you can come for me like this. You love this. You’re a good boy for me,” she whispered, biting his ear. 

The addition of her fingers drove Michael absolutely crazy, and within just a few minutes he came so hard the only noise he could make was a strangled whine as his heart pounded and he saw stars. And in the wake of that body-shattering orgasm, the buzzing of the vibrator tipped over into raw discomfort, even as Maria knelt over him with a wickedly fond grin. Still panting and coughing out weak little noises, Michael groped for the remote on instinct and clicked it all the way down—he hadn’t realized how _loud_ the buzzing was until the room was silent, and he squirmed in the ropes yet again, trying to squeeze into an even tighter ball even though he was finally approaching a limit to how long he could be comfortable in this position. 

“ _Hnn—_ sorry, I, uh, _ahh—”_ he fought to say, still shuddering through the drawn-out aftershocks, letting out one last pathetic whimper.

“Fuck, yeah, good boy, _good_ boy,” Maria moaned, curling up around him, not even fazed by Michael yanking the remote from her hand with his brain and turning it off when she wasn’t fast enough. “Easy, Michael, I’m gonna get you out of this, hang on, okay? I love you, you’re a good boy. I’m gonna untie you, just be still, I got you.” 

Maria slid one arm under Michael’s head, kissing his neck and cheeks as she found the quick-release ties. A few had gotten tight, and she had to work at them, but slowly she unfolded him, red rope-marks criss-crossing his skin. She paused to rub some of the ache out of his thighs, his arms still bound in front of him and his ankles and knees still tied together. “This okay?” 

“You’re good. Feels good—your hands. My knees next, though,” Michael murmured. He was exhausted, thirsty, but he knew Maria would take care of him, and as the rope fell away he admired the faint red tracings all over his skin. Somehow, he hadn’t expected that side effect, and he liked it. A _lot._ He wasn’t sure he’d ever felt so completely _owned._ “Love you,” he added, ready for his hands to be free so he could reach out and touch her.

“I love you, too, Michael,” Maria said, untying his knees, hands, and ankles. The ropes fell around him in loose loops, and she helped him roll on his back as she watched him take a gulping breath. “Here, here, drink some water,” she said, holding up a bottle with a straw and rubbing his arms and legs vigorously. 

“You did so good, babe, that was, _mm_ , you’re so _good_ for me.” Next was pulling the bullet out by the cord (she wasn’t supposed to do that, but oh, well), and then cleaning up her hands and Michael’s chest before she settled over him with a blanket. “You’re a _vision_.” 

“Mm.” He tucked in close to her, rubbing clumsy kisses across her cheek and jaw until he found her mouth and caught it up in a lazy, lingering kiss. When they parted moments later, he stayed just that close, tangling their legs together. He was definitely sore, like he’d just survived one of Alex’s brutal soldier-boy endurance workouts, his limbs feeling rubbery in a way that was both pleasant and exhausting. 

He wrapped his hand around her hip, rubbing his thumb idly across her soft skin. “I know we didn’t get to the photoshoot…” he said, “...but you should take a picture of the marks. I like ‘em.”

“You were _too_ pretty, I wanted you all to myself. Didn’t expect that,” Maria agreed, still rubbing his arms and legs like she could work all the tension out of him, like she could send him right to sleep like this, at 8pm on top of her comforter. “But yeah, hang on, where—oh, I think I left my phone in the living room. You’re just too distractingly gorgeously captivating and— _oh_!” 

Maria squealed in delight as her phone floated to her, and dropped into her waiting palms. Michael was grinning at her. 

“Oh, stay smiling just like that,” she said, and snapped a few pictures.

“My ego can’t take all this pumping up you’re giving it,” he said, posing—if sprawling out with as much languid, just-fucked decadence as he could manage counted as posing. “I’m gonna get such a big head. Take over your social media empire or whatever.”

“Oh, no, these are for me,” Maria said, arranging the ropes more artfully around him, tugging the blankets down. “ _Maybe_ Alex. Roll over, wanna see your ass and thighs.”

She took a few more pictures and then laid down next to him, swiping through the pictures to immediately delete blurry ones, and then take a few selfies of them together, most of them making silly faces. Glancing at him in the camera reflecting them, she said, “You could stand to get a bigger head, Guerin. I mean, not smarter. Thinking better of yourself.” 

Michael shrugged and glanced away self-consciously for just a moment, then turned back with a smaller, softer smile. “Workin’ on it. I promise. It’s not hard with you and Alex keepin’ me in line, yeah?”

“Yeah. Good.” 

They lay together in bed after that, Maria putting on a movie they both managed to pick with only minor bickering— _Star Trek_ (2009). Michael made it all the way through this time, even, though it was a near thing, the two of them trading commentary and snark back and forth the entire time, mostly related to the comparative hotness of white guys named Chris and laughing at Alex’s very strong opinions about the integrity of the _Star Trek_ reboots behind his back. They fell asleep like that, come-sticky and barely getting under the covers, the rope shoved off the foot of the bed in tangles. 

Michael did the dishes and tidied in the morning while Maria slept in for work that night and he caught himself whistling the entire drive home. Changing his clothes was a whole ordeal, as he kept getting distracted by the remainders of little red rope-lines on his skin, and the faded bruises on the backs of his thighs, fingering them and grinning to himself, face red as well.

He was a little late to work, but hey—it was well worth it.


	5. Chapter 5

“Okay, how’s that?” Maria asked, patting Michael’s thigh. 

The rope bondage had become a regular thing for them, since Maria was kind of a completionist and she had a whole book, and Michael couldn’t say he didn’t enjoy the fuck out of the restraint, the strain, the stretch, and how it left him aching, in every sense of the word. Even if they just sat on the couch watching movies, she’d make him take off his pants and lace up a network of knots up one leg or both. 

(It meant Michael got to pick the movies they watched, and no more fucking Hallmark channel bullshit.)

Tonight they were going fairly simple: Maria was determined to perfect the box-tie—pinning his shoulders back and arms down, his wrists looped together comfortably behind him—so he spent a lot of time in it these days. Each leg was trussed up individually, his thighs bound to his calves loose enough that it didn’t cut off the circulation, but he couldn’t do anything other than kneel. Right now, he was tipped over on his side as she finished up his right leg. 

“Comfy?” she asked, running a hand up over his ribs. 

He shot her a sleepy grin over his shoulder. It was almost like meditation, the way he had to be so still to let her work. 

“Never been better,” he nearly purred, then turned his face back into the pillow, willing to wait to figure out what she’d do next, what position she’d pull him into, or if she’d just sit and pet him like she did sometimes when he couldn’t move, entirely at her mercy. There wasn’t any part of this he didn’t like.

Maria did cuddle up to him like this, spooning behind him to run her fingers through his hair and kiss his neck, leaving at least one hickey where it would be visible the next day. 

Into this domestic bliss intruded her phone alarm going off. 

“Shit,” she said, and grabbed it. “Oh, shit. I forgot I have to close tonight!” 

Maria got up and started throwing clothes back on, feeling relaxed and sleepy herself, since Michael had spent so much time lovingly eating her out before she tied him up. _He_ was still half-hard and wanting, of course, but that was going to be the fun part. She couldn’t quite keep a straight face as she said, “Now don’t move, I’ll only be gone a few hours…” 

“What? Maria…?” He struggled up into a sitting position, hard but not impossible using only his knees and core strength. She wasn’t really going to leave him here, right? Feeling like the rug just got pulled out from under him, he watched as she climbed off the bed, grabbing her purse and shoes and jacket. The secure ropes swaddling him bicep to forearm, calf to thigh, suddenly didn’t feel so secure but rough and cold against the goosebumps on his skin.

“Oh, baby, baby,” Maria purred, returning to the bed to kiss him. “ _I’m_ going, but I’m not going to leave you _alone_.”

Setting her purse and phone down, she heaved Michael upright, so he was kneeling in more or less the center of the bed. “Now don’t move—” she said, going about the room to straighten the covers and clean up, though she left the lube and condoms out on the bedside table, and Michael knew where her toybox was if he needed anything. 

“DeLuca….” 

“Shh,” she said, grabbing the back of his neck and kissing him quiet. “The quick-release ties for your legs are back here, and right here for your arms. And the scissors are right by the lube.” 

She grabbed his cock and gave him a few strokes, since he’d flagged a little in his panic. 

And then she was gone. Michael strained to listen for the door, but didn’t hear it yet, and wondered if she might come back, so he stayed still in the center of the bed.

Maria always kept the house warm when he was over since he spent so much of his time here naked to some degree, so at least he wouldn’t get cold? If nothing else, he used his powers to fetch her clock from the bedside table and put it on her dresser across the room, so he would know how much time was passing. He still hadn’t heard the door, but maybe he’d just missed it through the sound of his heart pounding in his ears.

He could probably go over an hour before his knees started hurting too bad. Maybe he could practice redoing the ropes with his brain if he had to stretch—Maria’d probably like that.

And then he heard the doorbell ring. 

* * *

“Alex, perfect timing!” Maria said, kissing his cheek and welcoming him in. 

“Where’s Guerin?” Alex asked, looking around. 

“Oh, he’s already waiting for you in the bedroom. He’s being a _very_ good boy.” 

Alex pinched his brow. “What did you do…” 

“Just clean up after yourselves and don’t leave me the wet spot! I’ll be home by 2!” Maria said, deciding not to answer that one. She left, locking the door behind her. 

Alex grinned faintly, though a hunger was already stirring low in his gut in anticipation. It wasn’t a secret that Maria had picked up the shibari book and was trying it out on Michael—he’d seen the Insta pics and the rope-lines on Michael. For all that he was methodical, himself, it seemed a little too fussy for him, when straps and cuffs worked just as well and had the same effect. 

He was, however, very open to having his mind changed, he decided, as he walked through her bedroom door. 

“Alex!” Michael breathed, an elated, relieved grin spreading across his face as he realized what Maria set him up for. The heat in Alex’s face made his dick twitch, and he straightened his back and shoulders, licking his lips and tilting his chin up, hoping Alex would come give him a kiss.

“Hey,” Alex said, taking a moment at the door to just enjoy the view, and to compose himself. “Uh. Holy shit. You look, um. Good.” Alex cleared his throat, and adjusted his jeans. “She—she didn’t tell me…” 

“Oh.” Michael licked his lips again but didn’t let the flash of awkwardness take him over. No, he spread his legs even wider, lowered his eyes behind his lashes, and drawled. “Well..surprise. Feel free to look...browse...touch the goods…”

Now Alex snorted, the spell a little broken. 

He shut the door behind him and walked around the bed, getting a look at him from all angles. Yep, definitely good. Finally, when he felt like he could maintain some kind of dominant affect, Alex bent down and kissed him.

“You know, Maria said you’d been good, but…I don’t think you have.” 

Michael chased his lips when he separated the kiss, but Alex ignored him.

His hand trailed down Michael’s chest, over the criss-crossing ropes, down to his dick. “I don’t think she’s let you come today.” 

“She was planning this,” Michael said, “Maybe she wanted to let you do the honors. Promise I’ve been good...Captain.” His skin was on fire everywhere Alex touched. He wanted to roll over and show his belly, but he was already as helpless as he could be.

“Mm,” Alex replied, not giving away how fucking crazy it made him when Michael called him that, not giving away how touched he was that Maria had set all this up for them, but keeping his face neutral, schooled to something like vague dissatisfaction, like Michael could do better, even though a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth to show it was all an act. “Maybe. Or maybe she wanted me to take my fill of you and leave you desperate so you’d still be good for her, hm? Can’t let you get spoiled...” 

After studying Michael’s position for a few more seconds, Alex gently lowered Michael onto his back, his legs folded under him, back arching. “That alright? How are your knees like that?” he checked. 

“Too late, I’m already spoiled as hell,” Michael said, not bothering to answer the question. He could hold any position his lovers wanted for as long as necessary, and if not, well...if Alex wanted a brat to discipline, Michael would give him one. “No take backs.”

"Oh, definitely not," Alex agreed warmly, and then grabbed his hair and yanked his head back hard enough to hurt, and lowered his voice dangerously. "But when I ask for a check-in, you don't get to fucking blow me off, no matter how bratty you’re feeling. Give me a color."

Michael laughed out a yelp, tugging back on Alex’s grip to make it hurt even more. “Green! Green.”

“Green, what,” Alex said through clenched teeth, to drive the message home. 

Michael had a split second in which to make a decision, and make a decision he did. Alex could probably see what he was about to do in his face, in the way he arched his body, before he even said it.

“Green, _Private.”_

Alex laughed and let him go. 

“You little shit,” he said, shaking his head. He could tell it was an uncomfortable position, lying on his back with his legs under him. But he looked good like this, holy shit, with the blue rope crossing over his chest and legs… Fine, he got it. He was going to have to beg Maria to teach him, or lend him the shibari book, or something, because he needed this. He needed—

“I need you to suck my dick,” Alex said, suddenly. “Maria said no wet spots on her bed, so you’re gonna swallow, got it?”

Without waiting for an answer, Alex grabbed the convenient handle that was the front of the rope harness—okay, this alone was worth it—and slid Michael over so his head was hanging off the edge of the bed. Angle was gonna be a little weird, but that sounded like Michael’s problem. 

Michael laughed, another pulse of arousal running down his body and filling his cock at the easy way Alex could jerk him around like this. He and Maria had played plenty of games with the rope, but Alex’s touch was just different. Exhilarating and almost new, and Michael got to have them both. 

Raking his eyes over Alex from his upside-down position, face flushed and legs already starting to ache, Michael’s gaze settled on the hands come to rest against his belt. He swallowed around nothing, throat bobbing with it, and said, “‘Course I’m gonna swallow. Otherwise you might think I’m ungrateful or something.”

Alex grinned: technically a rare facial expression, but Michael got a lot of them. 

“You are an ungrateful brat, I thought we had already established that?” he said gently, cupping Michael’s face and jaw, and leaning down for a kiss, opening his belt and jeans one-handed. “Only way you get out of this is if you make me come. And if—” Alex glanced around— “if I’m fucking your face and you _do_ need to stop, rattle the lube on the nightstand, okay?” 

“I can do better than that,” Michael said, almost laughing again at the mental picture of smacking Alex in the head with a bottle of lube mid-fuck. But then Alex was pulling out his cock, and the sight alone was enough to shut Michael’s smart mouth. Alex stepped forward, close enough that Michael could lift up and lap at the head of his cock before Alex’s hand was back in his hair, holding him still and sliding all the way home without stopping.

Michael choked just for a second, unused to this angle, but _god_ it was—something he was going to provoke Alex into a lot more in the future, already so sense-heavy and overwhelmed he was almost dizzy with it, moaning around Alex and drawing his tongue luxuriantly over the top of his cock.

“Oh, shit, oh—oh, you feel _good_ like this, Michael,” Alex gasped, unsure where to put his hands at this angle. With Michael’s head tilted back, sliding deeper he met basically no resistance, and having Michael so helplessly open for him like that was delicious. The chest harness was something he could sink his fingers into, and he did, just sliding in and out in long, slow thrusts to warm him up. As good as Michael ordinarily was at this, his tongue was a mere redundancy because the tight hot heat of him was all his hindbrain decided it wanted. 

Curious, he slid all the way in, past the weak fight Michael’s gag reflex put up, and laid a hand on his throat, feeling his cock all the way in there. Mesmerized, he stayed like that until Michael began to twitch and splutter, and waited a few seconds longer before pulling back and letting him gasp for air. “Yeah. _Fuck_. So good. Little breathplay okay?” 

Michael cleared his throat and laughed breathlessly. If his hands were free, he would have grabbed the backs of Alex’s thighs and pulled him back in, but all he could do was strain against the ropes. 

“Yeah, green, yeah.”

He sounded _wrecked_ already. Maybe his voice would be gone completely by the time Alex came down his throat, and Michael panted, wondering what Maria would think of that.

Squirming, he let his mouth fall open in invitation.

Alex smiled benevolently down at him. 

“You’re going to be a snotty mess by the end of this, handsome,” he purred, and let Michael lick and taste just the head of his cock before he gripped the harness for leverage and rocked his hips forward. This was a really, really good position, it turned out, because Maria’s bed was high enough he just had to widen his stance a little. At some point his leg was going to start aching, but just standing around did that, too. 

Alex kept up the long, slow thrusts for as long as he could, letting Michael breathe in between, before the hotness of those gasps and gulping sounds, the arched body on display before him, and the welcoming heat of his throat made his concerns secondary. “Fuck, I’m gonna—” He was so easy for Guerin like this, this was so fast, he was already gone, “Michael, you’re gorgeous like this, c-come on—” he babbled, like Michael was actually doing anything here except controlling his breathing, so he fucked him in to the hilt and curled his hand around his dick in Michael’s throat and grunted as he came. 

Michael _was_ a mess, up to and including the pre smeared on his stomach from his aching cock, and he’d have to sit up or change position soon before he lost feeling in his legs, but he wasn’t ready to let this go just yet. So he swallowed and swallowed, working his abused throat around Alex’s cock until he was spent and pulling out, and even then Michael whined after him, as grateful as he was to fill his lungs up all the way.

“‘Lex,” he coughed out, already missing being touched by him, consumed by him.

“Fuck,” Alex said, leaning against the bed beside Michael, resting a hand on his diaphragm just to feel it expanding as he sucked in air. “You’re so good, Michael.” 

He grabbed a few tissues off the nightstand to wipe Michael’s eyes, nose and mouth of spit and snot and tears, and wiped his belly up, but still didn’t touch his cock. Once he was all cleaned up, and Alex’s limbs stopped feeling like rubber, he hauled Michael up to a kneeling position and pulled him against him into an embrace and a kiss. “How you doing? Color?”

“Nnnh,” Michael vocalized, sliding out of the kiss to roll his forehead against Alex’s shoulder, but he grinned while doing it, wide enough for Alex to feel the spread of his lips through the fabric of his shirt. “Green,” he rasped, then, “Maybe light green. Could use some water. Don’t want you to leave, though.” He nuzzled his way along Alex’s shoulder until he could taste the bare skin of his neck.

“I’m not gonna leave, _especially_ if you’re not very, very green,” Alex teased gently, rubbing Michael’s shoulders and sides and thighs, especially his thighs, loving the way the rope-over-flesh played against his fingertips. He kissed Michael’s neck and ears, soothing him. “I mean, at some point I do have to go back to my car and get my overnight bag, but I’ll make sure you won’t miss me. Come here…”

Sliding back so he was sitting properly on the bed, Alex tucked himself back into his underwear at least. Then he turned Michael so he was facing him and pressed forward into a kind of child’s pose like in yoga, with his head resting in Alex’s lap so Alex could card his fingers through Michael’s hair. “Close your eyes for just a few seconds. I’m right here.” 

Michael rested his cheek on Alex’s thigh and took a few deep breaths, relaxing utterly with every gentle pass of Alex’s fingers. At some point in those quiet moments, he remembered he was an alien with all the modern conveniences, so he fetched himself some water with a cup from the bathroom, probably splashing a little water all over the sink, but he’d clean it up later. The cup hovered next to the bed, ready for whenever Alex let Michael sit up, or whenever he decided he wanted to.

“Love you,” Michael murmured, because he hadn’t yet today.

“Love you, too,” Alex said, and huffed, taking the floating water cup from the air. Someday he was going to get used to that, but not today. “How was your day? Here, you wanna sit up and drink?” 

At Michael’s first sign of movement, Alex helped by pulling back on the harness to help him sit up again. Michael looked dazed and glassy-eyed and beautiful, just where Alex wanted him. 

Michael drank first, then settled back against Alex as best he could and said, “Well, I got to spend some quality time with my girlfriend on my day off, but then she tied me up like a birthday present for my boyfriend, who’s now had his wicked way with me...so I’m great. Full points. Ten out of ten…” He trailed off so he could turn his face and kiss any part of Alex he could reach, landing on the edge of his jaw and sliding along it until he could kiss the corner of his mouth.

“ _Michael_ ,” Alex actually laughed this time, letting himself fall back onto the bed and cradling Michael in his arms. “So you guys have been enjoying this, huh? I don’t think I’ve gotten all the juicy details yet.” 

“Mm, yeah. Maria’s found her favorite art form and I am just her humble man-canvas.” Michael laughed at the disgusted noise Alex made in response, and continued, “It’s been...it’s something I still have a hard time knowing how to describe. I still like it when you cuff me to the headboard or tie me up in other ways, don’t get me wrong, but when it’s like this, not something I can get out of with a few parlor tricks...safe isn’t quite the right word, but it’s the best I’ve got.”

“Man...vas…” Alex suggested slowly, and smiled, tugging a pillow under his head so he could watch Michael just rest, perfectly at peace, against his chest. “Well, I think you can consider me convinced. If Maria has the patience for it I can certainly manage _something_ , right?” Alex winked, and then backed down: “Don’t tell her I said that. I still might need her help. You’re sure it’s comfortable? No fingers falling asleep or anything?” 

Alex reached behind Michael to squeeze his fingers, and then slid his hand down Michael’s back to knead his ass—or as much of it as he could reach, with his feet sort of in the way. 

“There’s a learning curve. We do test runs before trying to actually do anything in any given tie. And if anything goes too wrong, there’s always safety scissors.”

Which they hadn’t had to use, yet. But there was still time—and lots of book left to try. Michael was almost looking forward to it.

Shifting position as best he could to give Alex more room to work with, Michael arched back into his touch, ready for more.

“Smart,” Alex murmured, teasing along the line of his crack with the tips of one finger, wishing he had telekinetic abilities and could grab the lube from the bedside table. “So, tell me, do you get hard just from being tied up now, or do we have to work a little harder than that?” 

A little shiver ran up Michael’s spine, half sensation, half suggestion. “Makes some things more intense. Being looked at, being manhandled...being touched…”

“Yeah?” 

Alex’s fingers made another teasing pass, and Michael groaned, grabbing the lube from the nightstand and dropping it on the bed right beside Alex, hoping he took the hint.

“It seems my powers of suggestion are getting better,” Alex laughed, picking up the lube and uncapping it. He slicked his fingers and went back to that slow, teasing trace, getting everything nice and slick before even pressing on his hole. After a few moments, he heaved Michael’s top leg up over his arm so he had better access reaching between his legs. “So maybe I could just finger you like this until you come?” 

Michael did his best to wriggle back onto the fingers just barely breaching him, an eager flush spreading through his entire body. His dick had softened a bit in the cooldown, but Alex’s warm, gentle touch on sensitive skin had him aching again in no time. 

“I do love your fingers... _fuck,_ Alex,” Michael whined as his squirming and pushing made Alex take his hand away just to tease him.

Alex smiled softly, leaning up to kiss Michael until he relaxed. “You have trouble letting anyone do anything for you, don’t you?” he whispered, while he was adding more lube to his fingertips. “Especially when you can’t take care of it yourself. I get that. Difference between you and me is that you _like_ it, when you let yourself. And me and Maria like giving it to you. You’re… brain-meltingly hot like this, Michael. A new alien power for you to note. Melting brains by being so fucking hot.”

Now his fingertip was sliding in and out of Michael’s asshole in long slow thrusts, at the same speed he had been fucking his mouth before. And Michael was just rolling into it. It was like having a mermaid in his lap, a mythical fucking creature, gorgeous and unreal, and _Alex_ was doing this to him. 

“ _Hha..._ I’m just...good like that,” Michael managed, until Alex nudged his prostate and his voice melted in his throat, into soft panting and grunts and moans, the first flickers of his orgasm building between his legs, but he tried to hold back, not knowing if he would be allowed, not wanting to get to the torturous part too quick.

“You are good like that. Very good,” Alex praised, continuing to tease him lightly, loving watching him writhe. “How was work? Tell me about it."

“You want me to think about old man Sanders? _Now?_ ” Michael whined, toes curling as Alex spread his fingers inside him, stretching him as much as he could. 

“Yeah, why not? No whining.”

In response to that, Michael whined even louder, until Alex pulled his fingers out altogether to crack his palm across his ass.

“Fine! _Fine._ Work was _fine._ Damn Longs still don’t pay worth shit for house calls to their shitty overpriced tractor. My dick is getting softer as we _speak.”_

Alex laughed warmly, pulling out his fingers. "Maybe that's good. I still need to get my overnight bag, and you're gonna stay here and not move and wait for me." He sat Michael up on his knees. "Color?"

Pouting, Michael mumbled _green._ It was true, but if Alex wanted to torment him too much longer he’d need a break to stretch his legs. Michael ducked his head to sulk at being left even for a second and wondered what Alex would do if he got a butt plug out of Maria’s toybox and worked it inside himself before Alex got back. It felt like a good idea, clenching around the uncomfortable emptiness Alex had left him with.

With a slightly patronizing but still tender ruffle of his hair (at least he wiped his hand off first), Alex left the room. Michael waited until his footsteps faded a bit before making his move—well, he couldn’t _move_ to go through the drawer to find the toy he really wanted, but he could do enough. He slid Maria’s toy drawer open, gently tossing things around in there until he found something that was good enough, a long, slim vibrator that wouldn’t stretch him enough but would feel so good inside him that it almost didn’t matter.

Not caring at all how much weight it would put on his knees or how much it would get him in trouble when Alex got back—and not wanting to waste any time—Michael turned to face the pillows and tipped himself forward so he had room enough to work, guiding the vibe to his stretched, slick hole and letting out a fluttering moan as it slid home inside him. He didn’t turn on the vibrations, just set to work _fucking_ himself, feeling his thighs shake with both pleasure and strain, sweat all over his body from the exertion. The front door opened, and Michael moaned louder, theatrical and needy, ‘cause Alex deserved to hear what Michael was reduced to when left to his own devices.

Alex actually heard him at a distance even if he hadn’t been attuning his senses to what was going on in that bedroom. Michael’s telekinetic abilities and the fact that he could free himself if necessary were the only reason he actually did feel comfortable leaving Michael alone, even for a few minutes. But that moan was definitely about something other than distress. He hurried to Maria’s bedroom, dropping the bag the moment he arrived because Michael—

Michael was honest to God, ass-up, face in the pillow, totally abusing his powers to fuck himself with what was apparently something out of Maria’s collection. 

He thought briefly about getting mad and punishing Michael, maybe spanking him, but of course that was exactly what Michael wanted, so, no. Instead he cleared his throat, using everything in him to appear unmoved by this. 

“Does that thing turn on?” 

Answering would just end up with him being tortured with it, so Michael didn’t, and he didn’t slow down, either. Alex could come over here and figure it out himself if he wanted to know so bad, Michael thought, nuzzling his sweaty face on the pillow underneath him.

“Is that difficult? To use your powers like that?” Alex asked, walking around him to get a good view. “Because I like looking at it. I want you to keep fucking yourself with it, just like that. And I want you to turn it on.” 

Michael hesitated a moment. He’d tested the waters, and they were pretty hot as it was, but he nibbled on the tip of his tongue and thought about what he had to do to maybe get burned.

So he spread his legs wider, trying to get them as securely under himself as possible, knowing the motion made his ass wag in Alex’s direction, and he drawled into the pillow, “ _Make me.”_

“I’m not going to ask you twice, Guerin,” Alex said, actually turning his back on him to get his bag, going through it to set out pajamas, a fresh prosthetic liner for the morning, and his toothbrush. “You can be good and obey me, and you know you’ll like it, or I’ll tell Maria you were a brat and neither of us will fuck you for a week. I’m gonna brush my teeth. Your call.” 

“ _Alex!_ ” Michael whined. He’d wanted to get burned, but now he felt like he’d been dunked in ice water instead. He’d kick himself if he wasn’t still too tied up to move. All chastised and shivery from it, he stuffed his face into the pillow even more and clicked the vibrator on, clenching his hole around it reflexively, hoping Alex didn’t take so long the loneliness threatening in his chest broke loose.

Hearing the vibrator click on to the sound of Michael’s moans, Alex stopped in the doorway. “ _Good boy_. I’ll be right back.” 

Alex was quick in the bathroom, just enough to show Michael he meant business (and, genuinely, so he wouldn’t have to leave the bed again after this). He returned to see Michael shivering and sweating, either with exertion or arousal. But the vibrator was on, and sliding in and out of him, mesmerizing. 

“Okay, turn the vibe off, sweetheart,” Alex instructed, pushing some hair out of Michael’s face. “Just you and your powers. Fuck yourself with it. Get yourself nice and close. Think you’ll be able to come without anyone touching your dick?” 

Alex sat down on the bed and started undressing himself, removing shoes and pants and leg. “Love it when you’re good for me. Might even fuck you.” 

“ _Plea—ah—ease—”_ Michael sobbed, muffled through a mouthful of wet fabric, shaking at the knowledge that he _had_ left a wet spot and _wasn’t_ good after all. He clicked the vibe off and sped up the pace, trying to get it to rub his prostate and maybe, maybe come after all, if he deserved it, if it wouldn’t be breaking the wet spot rule even worse. He gasped out a litany of Alex’s name, completely on fire, cock leaking and desperate and so, _so_ close.

“Okay, good, good, you can stop, baby,” Alex said, scooting closer to him and taking hold of the vibrator. He wrestled with Michael’s telekinesis for only a moment—a strange feeling, like pushing against a powerful magnetic force—before Michael gave up control of it, whining like Alex was murdering him as he slid it out of him. “Hey, hey, you’re okay, come here, you’re gonna hurt your neck like that,” Alex said, tipping Michael over and into his lap, well aware that this comfort and care was the worst part of the torture, bringing him back from the edge _again_. 

Michael sobbed again, fixing his mouth over whatever part of Alex’s skin he could reach, fixing it in his teeth but not biting down, no, he wouldn’t, he needed the feel of something in his mouth but wouldn’t do anything to hurt him. He was empty again, and he hated it, _again,_ but this time he wasn’t sure if he hated it more or less than teetering on the edge of coming and not being able to fall off. And his knees were really starting to hurt, now, so he forced himself to pick his head up and coordinate speech.

“Nngh. Yellow,” he said. “Need you to untie my legs.”

“Got it,” Alex said, not even asking about any quick-releases, just grabbing the scissors off the table and pulling Michael up and against his chest, cutting his legs free. 

“There we go, easy. Slow, slow, move ‘em slow,” he whispered, kissing Michael’s neck and holding him tight, back to chest, curling a hand around his throat, just to keep Michael from moving. “Not much fun trying to move around on a stump, right?” he teased. 

Michael groaned as he slowly stretched his stiff legs. “You can have a massage at,” another groan, “Literally any time. On demand. Free of charge. _Fuck._ ” But once he had his legs straightened out, pointing his toes a few times and stretching, he was ready to go again, turning his face to nuzzle Alex’s cheek and nip at his ear. 

“Easy, tiger,” Alex said, squeezing the sides of Michael’s throat until he gasped again and started going a little blurry. “I’ll take you up on that, sometime. Right now...right now I want to fuck you, want to watch you ride me just like this. Think you can do that?” 

Shuddering, already eager for the soreness that would come afterward, Michael crawled up to straddle his lap in lieu of giving an answer. Alex held his cock for Michael to sink down on, but only let Michael feel the barest breaching before pulling him off again, smirking at the whining that followed, to quickly make sure he was as slick as he needed to be.

Michael made all the eager noises he could to prove he was more than ready, and when Alex let him sink all the way down and bottom out, he started rolling his hips immediately, fast and hard. He was so clumsy, so desperate, no rhythm to the way he worked his hips, the way his stomach rippled. He dug his fingers into his own arms as lightning zipped down his spine, as his cock throbbed with pleasure, as he let out another long moan, just waiting for Alex to say the word.

“Easy, easy,” Alex murmured, teething across the back of Michael’s neck, finding a hickey there that Maria must have left and smiling at it as he held him down, not because he didn’t want him hard and fast and immediately, but because he had to roll a condom on Michael, whose cock was so hard it was almost purple. “God, you’re gorgeous like this. Your _back muscles_ , god, you look so fucking good working for me. I want you like this forever, all mine,” Alex moaned, finally, finally getting his hands on Michael’s hips. “Maybe share you with one person. Move.” 

“ _Yours._ ”

Thighs shaking, breath shuddering in his lungs, Michael gave himself no mercy and followed orders to the letter, unmovable object finally surrendering to Alex’s unstoppable force. 

“Alex, Alex, fuck, nngh, _please—_ ”

“Okay, okay, Michael,” Alex said, getting Michael into position and holding him around his waist, gripping his cock in a loose fist. “Wanna see you come riding my dick like this. Show me what a slut you are for it. Wanna see you sweat, Guerin.” 

And Michael _did,_ bouncing in Alex’s lap like he was made for it, clenching around him every time he bottomed out, mouth open and red and gasping, and just when he was about to come, he felt Alex give him a _shove,_ sending him pitching forward only to snatch him back by the rope harness at the very last second, the change in angle sending Michael jerking and crying into coming so hard he _shook,_ couldn’t even move to fuck himself through it, couldn’t do anything but hold on.

Alex caught him by the really convenient harness he was wearing and kept pushing, lowering him slowly to the bed and climbing on top of him. "That's it, that's good, you're so good, you're mine, I've got you," he babbled as he fucked into him roughly, giving him all that pain and sensation here at the end, as a treat, when Michael was all relaxed and loose and vaguely twitching and moaning with every thrust until Alex came, too, and collapsed on top of him, gulping down air. 

"Oh my God, Michael," Alex gasped, and pawed at the bedside drawer for an anal plug, the largest he could find (God knew what a straight woman was doing with a set of anal plugs, but that maybe went to show how much he knew about straight women), and pushed it into Michael's unresisting body. 

"Don't want any wet spots," he murmured playfully, though he wasn't sure how aware Michael was as he pulled him against his chest. They’d worry about the harness later. "Come here, I've got you, beautiful."

Michael fairly collapsed in Alex’s arms, lightly headbutting his chest and resting there over his heartbeat, wrapping one leg around Alex’s thighs, doing his best to tangle them so close together even without use of his arms that Alex wouldn’t be able to get up without some serious work. He peeked over Alex’s shoulder to see the time, checking if Maria might be home soon—selfishly, because he really wanted to feel her cocooning him too, pressed up against his back…

But it had only been a little over an hour, so Michael let it go and snuggled in close.

“Too late,” he mumbled, “‘Bout the wet spots...got drool all over the pillow.”

Hopefully Alex wouldn’t be mad. Michael clenched his sore muscles around the plug inside him, chasing that pleasure-pain of being well and truly fucked out.

“I think that’s okay,” Alex chuckled, wiping Michael’s eyes and face up of moisture again. He sucked in a quiet breath as Michael mouthed at his thumb, chasing it. “If it’s not, I get to hold you down while she spanks you, and that sounds fun, too.” 

Alex kissed Michael’s forehead, right between his eyes. “You warm enough?” he asked, but without waiting for a reply pulled up the fleece blanket from the foot of the bed and tossed it over Michael’s legs, rubbing his back and his arms to relax him. “You want the harness off now or are you okay?” 

“Mmmmmn,” Michael hummed, half thrill at the thought of a spanking from Maria, half soaked certainty that that was _not_ something he could handle tonight. Then his brain pinged that he’d been asked a question, and he replied, “‘M warm. And my arms’re kind of stiff, but ‘s fine.”

"Okay, I'll let you out in a minute. You're so good for us," Alex murmured, running his fingers through his hair. "I love you so much, Michael."

“No, you.” Eyes falling shut, Michael drifted for a while, lulled by the gentle petting and the warmth of Alex’s body. The knowledge that he was plugged up with Alex’s come inside him was enough to keep a low-smoldering arousal in him, a heady daze tugging on the edges of his consciousness.

After a few minutes, the pull on Michael’s shoulders ticked past annoying, so he mumbled, “There’s a loop behind my wrists...you can pull it ‘n free my arms without untying or cutting anything.”

"Really? Fucking magic." Alex asked, pulling Michael more on top of him to check. He tugged on a few loops before he figured it out, loosening the tie around Michael's wrists to free his arms. There were still a few loops around his biceps keeping his arms at his sides at least from the elbow up, but this seemed better already, and Alex rubbed his arms briskly to return blood flow to them. "How's that? Want to let me get rid of that soggy condom for you?" 

“Ugh, yes, please,” he laughed into Alex’s shoulder. “‘Soggy condom.’ That’s officially the grossest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“Not, ah, 'I wanna fuck your throat and make you swallow my come'?” Alex chuckled nervously, kissing him as he slid the condom off him and tied it off. 

Michael did the honors and tossed it into the trash since he wasn’t letting Alex off the bed any time soon. He was vaguely queasy from how much he’d used his powers, but if he stayed still like this it would pass.

“Hey, come on, take it easy,” Alex scolded gently, helping him sit up enough to sip some water. “No more powers tonight, you’re looking a little green.”

Then he proceeded to get Michael under the covers with him, tucked up all cozy, and gave him a few more sips of water. A few drops slid down his full lips, which Alex pushed away with his thumb. Every time he did, Michael chased his thumb with lips and tongue, hungry as always for the taste of him.

His voice was still raspy and wrecked from earlier, but Michael only enjoyed it. “How about you?” he asked. “How was your day?”

“Fine. A lot of coding,” Alex said, mesmerized by Michael’s mouth, and continuing to trace the shape of his lips with a fingertip. “When I got Maria’s call I figured we’d be doing movie night on the couch or something. Not...discovering a new kink to add to a growing list.” 

“She’s diabolical like that.” 

“Thank God.” 

Michael pulled the tip of Alex’s finger into his mouth with his tongue, nibbling on the pad and then sucking it all the way down, reveling in the taste and texture of him. Maria loved to tease him for his oral fixation, but Michael didn’t even care. 

“Fuck,” Alex whispered, sliding his finger in and out of that waiting mouth, those puckered lips. It was his favorite part of Michael, his favorite place to fuck him, everything. He wondered if Michael would let him hand-feed him sometime, just spend an entire meal with his fingers getting licked by Michael. 

Alex had to reclaim his hand then and kiss him, fucking Michael with his tongue instead, still tasting like _him_. He turned off the light and grabbed the remote to the TV she had in here, logging onto her Netflix. “Hey, you know, I haven’t actually seen this _Knight Before Christmas_ movie, it looks pretty good…” 

If Michael made a sound of displeasure, it was cut off when Alex slid his thumb into Michael’s mouth to shut him up, pressing down on his tongue. “I’m just kidding, Maria said you made a huge fuss. I’ll put on a space documentary instead. Send you right to sleep.” 

Michael might have made a few more grumbling sounds at being teased, but within minutes he was out like a light, just like Alex knew he would be. Talking about stars always put him right to sleep. And unconscious, his mouth was so soft and slack around Alex’s fingers, and Michael made a soft noise of discontent when he tried to pull away, so he didn’t.

Alex fell asleep like that, too, and didn’t notice when Netflix asked him if he wanted to continue watching, and only startled awake when he heard the key turning in the front door lock. 

Briefly disoriented, Alex forgot where he was until he registered that Michael was still in his arms, tucked up against his side and _still sucking on his thumb_ when he remembered. Right. He was at Maria’s house. 

He glanced at the clock blearily and tossed the blanket over Michael’s face in case she turned on any lights, but Maria was quiet and careful, using light from her phone. 

“Everyone decent?” she whispered, for their benefit, of course, or at least Alex’s. 

“Yeah. Come on in, I think Guerin’s still out.” He wiped his thumb off on the blanket, flushing at how pruny it was from Michael’s mouth and at how much he hated taking it out. 

“Aww, and drooling all over you to boot. How precious,” Maria cooed, folding the blanket back down and hiding her light to get a good look at Michael’s sleeping face. She laid her hand against his cheek for a second, then looked up to smirk at Alex. “I see his arms are still wrapped up. You enjoy my little present?”

Alex huffed, bouncing Michael on his chest. “It’s embarrassing how much I enjoyed that, yeah. Can we get the rest of this off him without waking him up?” 

“He’s slept in that before,” Maria said with a shrug. 

Alex had to pretend he wasn’t getting another boner in front of his best friend now. That was fine. “Should I move to the couch or…?” 

“If you even try, I’m pulling the rope on you next,” Maria lectured jokingly. “This bed’s big enough for three if we squeeze, which,” she shot a significant look at the way Michael was plastered against Alex’s side. Then she smiled, and said, “I’m going to take a quick shower and get ready for bed, then I’ll take him from you so you can do the same, okay?”

"Okay. I may fall right back to sleep, though," Alex chuckled, though he really did need to shower. He grabbed her hand as she moved past and squeezed it. "Thanks, Maria."

She squeezed him back, and she took care of the business of getting ready for bed as quickly as she possibly could so Alex could get in there, showered and leg off and comfortable. By the time she made it back to the bedroom, Alex was dozing again with his cheek smushed against the top of Michael’s head, and she’d totally take a picture to tease them with if she didn’t think Alex might not like that. 

“Alex,” she whispered, hoping to wake him easily.

"I'm up," Alex said, and he stuck to Michael as he pulled away. Michael actually stirred, actually whined, when Alex moved, and Alex ran his fingers over his curls. “It’s okay, Maria’s here. Can you take him?” 

“I didn’t think we’d ever _actually_ have a baby together, Alex,” Maria teased, pulling Michael back against her, spooning all along his body and kissing his neck and back. Slowly she started unlacing the harness, freeing him from the ropes. 

Alex laughed, searching around for his crutch to get him to the bathroom and back. 

Michael woke up a little more as Maria rubbed his arms, and he took advantage of Alex’s absence to steal his pillow, then he turned to kiss Maria.

“Welcome home,” he murmured against her mouth, then added with a smirk, “And enough with the baby stuff.” He shifted his hips. “His come is _literally_ inside me right now.”

“Gross,” Maria laughed, though that was actually anything but. Speaking of butt...she tapped the plug inside him. “Alex is digging into my stash, huh?” 

She let Michael shift himself how he wanted to be before curling around him, letting him roll over and pillow his head on her boobs, which required some adjustment. “Were you a good boy? _This,_ ” she dragged one finger up his throat, indicating his ravaged voice, “tells me you might have needed a little extra encouragement, hm?” 

“Mm-hm. Why don’t you ask him?” he asked, giving Alex a smoldering look from where he rested against Maria’s chest, curling an arm around her. He shuddered and moaned as Maria tapped the plug again and gave it a light tug.

“Turns out being left alone when he’s like this gives him an attitude,” Alex said, smiling down at them, “We worked it out.” 

Maria crooned at Michael at that, grabbing his jaw to hold him still to kiss him yet again. 

“Well, he’s well-behaved now, so I’m guessing he learned his lesson and you let him come,” Maria said. She played with the plug a little bit more and then left it alone, closing her eyes. 

Alex set his crutch within reach and returned to bed, shoving Michael’s wayward limbs over so he had room, though he just plastered himself against Michael in the end, anyway. “It’s hard to not give him exactly what he wants when he’s wrapped up like a present. I blame you for this.” 

“Blame?” 

Alex sighed. “I mean _thank_.” 

They adjusted and readjusted themselves, first so that Alex and Maria weren’t touching, and then so that they were touching on purpose, their arms a cage hemming Michael in completely. Maria didn’t even tickle Alex once, though her hand spread out along ribs, his curled around her waist. 

“Guerin’s making breakfast, right?” Alex murmured, sounding more than half-asleep.

“Waffles,” Michael concurred, and then he was asleep as well, the most comfortable he’d been in his entire life, body sore in all the very best ways, circled all around with warmth and love.

**Author's Note:**

> (believe it or not) this was written in its entirety prior to episode 2x06 and has not been revised with that episode in mind. 
> 
> takes place in a universe separate from but adjacent to [No I in Threesome](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1667581)
> 
> title comes from "physical" by dua lipa


End file.
